


Meet Me In The Graveyard

by Oldguybones



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Blood, Choose Your Own Adventure, Death, F/M, Horror, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Reader-Interactive, You Decide, cabin in the woods, potential MCD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldguybones/pseuds/Oldguybones
Summary: After almost five years apart, the Losers club reunites to spend the weekend together at Mike’s lakeside cabin. Armed with booze and total solitude, the gang plans to make up for lost time and catch up with those who were once the most important people of their youths. Tensions fly as lost love is rekindled and friendships are divided. But they soon begin to realize that they are not alone. Someone or something is out for blood and will not rest until they get it. What will the Losers do?You decide.In this interactive fanfic experience, you, the reader, gets to ultimately decide the fate of the Losers. At the end of each chapter, there will be a choice to make. Two options will be provided and, via comments and asks, you will get to vote for the outcome you wish to see. But be careful! Because even the smallest, insignificant choice can cause a chain reaction.Who will survive? It’s up to you.





	1. Good Times

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Meet Me In The Graveyard. Thank you for joining me. I hope you enjoy your time here and once you get to the end, there will be a choice to make. Comment below and tell me which option tickles your fancy. The story will progress based off of the majority and as it does, your choices will decide the fate of the Losers. Up for the responsibility? Begin reading below. But remember, every decision made will result in consequences and no matter what, there's no going back.

 

A white Subaru drives along a secluded road, surrounded by a thick line of trees on either side, obstructing the sun's path. It is a bright summer day, but impossible to tell through the dense foliage. The air is quiet, almost eerily devoid of any sound at all, save for a few scattered chirps and the gentle breeze wafting through the open windows as they drive. Each curve of the winding road they take gently, truly in no rush to arrive at their destination. Not only do they have ample time before they're set to meet at the cabin, but there's an odd sense of apprehension settling in the guts of both the driver and passenger. After spending five years apart, with minimal to no contact, they were anxious to reunite. With the way they all left things, it was hard to imagine any of them not feeling the same anxiety.

Ben seems to notice the distressed way Bev chews at her bottom lip. He reaches over from the passenger side and grabs the hand she has idly resting on the gear shift. Pressing it to his lips, he presses a kiss to each of her knuckles, offering a reassuring smile when she briefly glances over at him with a smile of her own.

“It'll be fun,” he insists, though it's obvious he's trying not only to convince Bev, but himself as well.

“Yeah,” she whispers distractedly, refocusing her eyes on the road, “It'll be weird....to all be back together again.”

“I'm sure everyone's feeling the same way,” Ben replies with a weak chuckle.

“I just don't know how we're all gonna stay under the same roof,” she sighs, slowly shaking her head, “Especially Eddie and Rich.”

“We've all done some growing up. Maybe things won't be that bad.”

Bev scoffs, the sound soon turning to a bitter laugh, “Uh huh. Yeah, okay. If you say so.”

 

After what seems like the longest drive and the furthest they could possibly be from civilization, the cabin finally comes into view and the scene is nothing short of breathtaking. Before them stood a big log cabin, complete with a tall chimney and a large window that expands nearly over the entire front wall. To the right is a lake, a big pool of crystal blue water and an old dock that extends out. And surrounding all that is more trees, creating a solid perimeter and providing an obscene about of privacy.

Sitting outside the cabin already is an old, red SUV, one any of the Losers could and would immediately recognize. Although, they would always wonder how in the world it still ran. But Mike's biggest motto had always been; if it's not broken, why fix it?

The sound of the car doors shutting echoes through the trees. They grab their bags and by the time they turn towards the door, it's opening and Mike is welcoming them with open arms. Bev rushes over and throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly.

“It's so good to see you,” she says and after a moment, she's pulling away.

“I'm so glad you guys could make it,” Mike wears a huge smile as he speaks.

Ben shakes his hand, using the grip to pull Mike in for a hug, “Thanks for having us.”

Mike ushers them in, reaching forward and grabbing their bags for them, despite their protests. He carries them inside, setting them down on the large sectional in the living room.

“So when's everyone getting in?” Bev asks curiously, her hands tucked in the pocket of her overalls as she casually paces around the living room, her eyes scanning over the artwork and decor around them.

“I'm honestly surprised you guys beat Eddie here,” Mike says with a chuckle, “You know Stan, they'll arrive _precisely_ on time. Bill and Audra won't be long after them. And Richie, well if he decides to show up at all, he'll be fashionably late as always.”

Bev goes quiet, seemingly silenced by the anger plainly written across her face. Ben immediately picks up on it and takes over the conversation as Bev continues to look around.

“Have you heard from him or seen him at all?”

Mike shakes his head, a grim look on his face, “Not since the day he was discharged.”

Before Ben can reply, there's a knock on the door and all three of them spin around. Standing in the doorway is none other than Eddie, just like clockwork.

“Hey guys!” he greets with a smile, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Eddie! You look incredible!” Bev exclaims, already running over to throw her arms around his neck. She envelopes him in a tight hug, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Many years had passed, but there's still something comforting about the familiar scent of Eddie that takes her back. Something about it feels like home. She maintains the hold until she feels Ben's hand glide over her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Ben slips between the two of them as Bev takes a step back. He pulls Eddie into a quick hug himself. “Hey Eddie. How've you been?”

“I've been great! How are you guys?” Eddie asks, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Before the two of them can answer, they were stunned by the sight of another man walking up the steps and stopping right beside Eddie.

“I told you I would grab that babe,” he tells him, reaching over to grab the bag from him and leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You guys remember Nathan?” The words are meant as a question, but they sound more like a statement from the implications dripping from the tone of his voice.

Bev just nods slowly as Ben plasters on a smile, always quick to play the role of the conversationalist when his partner can't. “Yeah of course! Hey man!” he greets him eagerly, reaching over to shake his hand.

“Hey! It's good to be here!” Nathan replies, though the enthusiasm in his voice is clearly fake. He turns towards Mike with a tight smile. “Thanks for having us. Is there somewhere I can put our bags?”

“Of course!” Mike nods and leads him down the hallway, out of sight and out of ear shot.

“From the wedding...” Bev trails off in realization, her voice a mix of disappointment and bitterness. Her jaw clenches tightly and she can feel a trace of a tremble tickle her fingertips at the memories stirring around in her mind, but she does the best she can to push them aside.

Eddie almost looks guilty as his gaze drops down to the ground, his foot scuffing awkwardly against the hardwood floor. He lets out a heavy breath, glancing back up to be met with Bev's stern, unwavering stare. After a moment, he lightly rolls his eyes, “C'mon Bev. You're not still mad about that, are you?”

“No. The past is the past,” Bev relents with a sigh, plastering on the best smile she can manage. More words are on the tip of her tongue, but as she hears a car pulling up outside, she pushes them to the back of her mind for the time being. She squeezes past Eddie and out the door to greet whoever had just arrived. The smile returns to her face at the sight of Stan moving around the front of his car to open the passenger side door, offering his hand for Patty to grab.

“Bev!” The excitement in Patty's voice is genuine as she strides over to where Bev is standing, her hand pressed to her forehead in an attempt to block out the sun obstructing her view. Bev's arms snake around Patty's waist as her arms wrap around Bev's neck. “So good to see you. It's been too long.”

“It really has,” Bev agrees, grunting softly when Stan tightly wraps his arms around the both of them. “Hi Stan.”

“Hi Bev,” he returns, smiling as he rests his cheek against the top of Patty's head. “Who's all here?”

“Me, Ben, Mike, obviously,” she lists off, keeping one arm around Patty as Stan moves over to grab their bags from the car. “Eddie..... _Nathan.”_

Patty gasps, her head shooting to the side to a share of a look of utter disbelief with Bev, “From the wedding?”

Bev nods in confirmation, "Yeah, from the wedding. Can you believe it?"  
  
Stan catches up to them, carrying the couple bags him and Patty share. "I mean he has a right to bring whoever he wants and they really seemed to hit it off." He throws his hands up defensively at the glares he received from the two women. "All I'm saying is he's not responsible for what happened to Richie. He brought that upon himself."  
  
"Things could've been different," Bev offers, like it somehow justifies the blame they want to place on Eddie.  
  
"Yeah," Stan agrees, nodding his head along with the words, despite the fact that he's acknowledging an entirely different sentiment. "They could've been."  
  
When they re-enter the cabin, Ben walks over and shakes Stan's hand, "Hey, Stan. How's married life treating you?"  
  
Stan's face lights up as he steals a glance at his wife, who's still attached at the hip with Bev, "Its the best. When are you gonna join?"  
  
Ben chuckles, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, "I'm uh, I'm working on it."  
  
"That's great! It's about time," Stan says, giving Ben a playful smack on the arm.  
  
Ben laughs again, this time a hearty one straight from his gut. "Yeah, I should've done it a long time ago but you know," he shrugs, "Sometimes life just gets in the way."  
  
Stan hums in agreement and soon after, their attention turns away as Mike comes walking down the hallway. He moves over to greet the newcomers, taking their bags from Stan.

“What'd you say we get some lunch going?” Mike asks enthusiastically, desperate to break the tension seemingly radiating off of the group as Eddie and Nathan join the rest of them, exchanging soft words between each other. Though the second they step into the living room and see all eyes focused on them, they immediately go silent.

“That sounds great Mike,” Stan affirms, eager to help ease the awkwardness quickly settling over the room.

They all fall into a rhythm after that; Patty and Bev help Mike in the kitchen while Stan and Ben go out to the garden to pick some fresh veggies. Nathan's helping Eddie set the table; there's still laughter between them, but this time it's quiet as to not disturb the kitchen's occupants. Anyone looking in on the scene, though, could instantly tell exactly how the two felt for each other.

They're all about to sit down at the table for lunch, when the sound of tires on gravel cuts through the uncomfortable silence. A few moments later, there's a gentle knock on the door and shortly after, it's pushed open. Bill and Audra stumble in, hanging off of each other and giggling all the while. To say they look disheveled would be an understatement: their clothes look hastily pulled on and their hair stuck up in all different directions.

“Sorry, we got kinda lost,” Audra offers with another giggle, burying her blushing face in Bill's shoulder.

A few scattered chuckles sound from the table in response, accompanied by multiple eye rolls. They sit their bags down near the couch and shuffle over to the table, where they exchange half hugs with everyone sitting around the table before taking two of the final three place settings.

Over the course of an hour, the group chats effortlessly without a single break in between their words. The conversation comes easy and never seems to die. It's almost as if they hadn't spent years and years drifting apart; but somehow, there's still an elephant in the room. Someone's missing and the weight of their absence weighs heavy on the atmosphere.

 

But the day trudges on regardless. Not long after lunch finds the group outside, enjoying the bright summer day in its entirety. Stan, Patty and Bev are all splashing around in the water while Ben and Mike sit on the shore, laid out on a few blankets underneath the rays of the sun. Eddie and Nathan sit at the end of the dock, simply letting their feet dangle in the cool water. Their hands lay, intertwined, on the old wood of the dock. The small affection earns them multiple judgmental stares from Bev and even some from Patty, where she's busy trying to dunk Stan under the water.

It's a good few hours after they've all arrived; they're all dried off and changed into fresh clothes. Mike is taking them all on a tour of the property and it's only then that Bill and Audra rejoin the group, once again hanging all over each other and giggling all the while.

Ben's got his arm draped over Bev's shoulder, who in turn has her arm around his waist. Eddie and Nathan have their fingers intertwined. Stan has Patty on his back, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, both arms draped over his shoulders.

“Richie better show up soon,” Mike jokes, having peeked over his shoulder at the four happy couples behind him. “I'd hate to be the ninth wheel all weekend.”

Everyone goes rigid with silence, save for Audra who offers a soft chuckle. The sound comes from ignorance; her and Bill have only been together a few months, leaving her painfully unaware of the history between the seven of them. She wasn't at the hospital that night, like the seven of them were, even Patty had spent all night in the waiting room with her newly appointed husband, still clad in her big, white wedding dress. For better or for worse, they had pledged just hours prior on what was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.

The rest of the tour is finished in total silence as they bob and weave through the woods. They seem to walk an indistinguishable distance and never come to the edge; it just seems to keep going and going. Eventually they turn around and make the journey back to the cabin. When they arrive, the group seems to immediately disperse. Each couple retreats to their room and within a minute, multiple conversations hang in the air.

 

“He's not even going to show up!” Bev exclaims angrily, throwing her arms up in defeat as she paces around the room, “What a fucking coward!”

Ben's sitting on the bed, ignoring the press of the small, velvet box in his pocket. He shifts nervously, trying to discreetly cover the outline of it through his jeans. “You don't know that.”

“Of course I do!” she insists, “This has Richie written all over it!”

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Nathan asks quietly from his and Eddie's room where Eddie is standing at the window, clenching his jaw and staring blankly outside.

“I'm fine,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. His arms are crossed over his chest and his shoulders are tense. Even more so as Nathan moves to massage them. “Maybe we shouldn't have come...”

“It'll be okay,” Nathan murmurs gently, moving to wrap his arms around Eddie's tense frame. “Give it another day and if it still sucks, we'll ditch.”

 

“I don't want to have this fight again,” Patty sighs from where she sits beside Stan on their bed.

“Good, me neither,” Stan affirms, resting his hand on her thigh as he stares up at her, “Look, I don't love it any more than you do. But what happened was _not_ Eddie's fault.”

“I know,” Patty whispers, laying down next to Stan and resting her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He turns his head to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “But Richie was a loaded gun. And Eddie? He pulled the trigger.”

 

“Why didn't you tell me what happened with your friends?” Audra asks softly as her and Bill both sit on their bed.

Bill shrugs, “Kinda heavy, don't you think? Not exactly something I want to brag about.”

“I like you Bill,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “I want to know everything.”

_For anyone who happens upon it, it's a heartbreaking scene to say the least. Eight people occupy the waiting room of the county hospital on a quiet Sunday evening. Each one is dressed to the nines, all the men are wearing matching suits, while the two women are both in beautiful dresses. Clearly, a wedding party and their location brings a morbid reality to their attire._

_Patty tightly clutches Stan's trembling hands in her own, ignoring the fact that they are covered in blood. Bev and Ben are holding onto each other and trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. Eddie stares blankly ahead, completely dissociating from everything around him, especially the comforting hand of his date on his thigh. Mike is pacing around the waiting room and refuses to sit down. And from the side, Bill sits and watches all his friends fall apart._

Mike's voice sounds through the cabin, beckoning them to the dining room. Bill promises to finish the story later before joining everyone.

“Any sign of Richie?” Bev asks bitterly as she sits down at the table. She receives no answer, and in return, shakes her head with a chuckle, “That's just typical Richie, isn't it?”

“Can we stop talking about him for two minutes?” Eddie groans. He grabs a glass and fills it with the closest bottle of alcohol he can find. With ease, he swallows it down and pours another.

“Babe, maybe you oughta cool it a bit,” Nathan suggests cautiously, fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle to pull it away.

Eddie's knuckles practically turn white from his grip on the edge of the counter, “I just want to have a fun weekend, okay?”

“I think we could all use a drink or two,” Stan adds in lightheartedly, resting his hand on Eddie's back as he leans in to steal the glass from him. He holds the glass way over his head and, even though they're adults now, Stan still stands quite a bit taller than Eddie, enough so that he can't reach the glass despite how hard he tries.

With a chuckle, Mike comes up behind Stan and easily grabs the glass from his grip. He quickly swallows the liquid down, “Couldn't agree more.”

Though it feels juvenile, the banter brings a small to Eddie's lips, long enough for him to settle down at the dinner table with the rest of the group.

“So Eddie, how's your limo company doing?” Ben asks curiously, in a successful attempt to shift the atmosphere.

“It's good,” he answers with a small smile, “We're actually looking to expand in the near future. But what about you? Mr. Architecture Weekly!”

Bev beams proudly as Ben's cheeks turn red at the mere mention, “It was just one magazine cover...” The modest statement is met with a course of laughter from those around him. “It's nothing compared to the multi-page article on Bev's new fashion line.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we're all successful adults,” Stan says, playfully rolling his eyes.

“You're just mad because no one's writing about your new promotion,” Patty teases. Mike reaches over the table to high-five her in response. Stan sticks his tongue out at both of them.

Eddie squeezes Nathan's thigh and offers him a soft smile as he remains silent and simply listens to all the chatter around him.

“I'm sorry, Nathan. What is it that you do again?” Mike asks casually, still recovering from the laughter previously emitted.

“I work in construction,” he answers concisely, dragging his fork aimlessly through the food on his plate. Part of Eddie feels bad that his partner has to spend all weekend with his estranged friends; half of who don't seem to approve of their relationship. But then again, Eddie suggested he stay behind and Nathan refused so whose fault was it really?

But while the exact words hadn't been uttered aloud, Eddie figures it's due to Richie's potential proximity for the weekend and their troubled _history._ On one hand, Eddie wants to be upset with Nathan because there needs to be some level of trust between partners, but on the other hand, he completely understands where Nathan's coming from.

“That's awesome man!” Ben exclaims, “I design it, you build it!”

Nathan elicits a weak laugh in return, before reaching for the bottle of whiskey at the center of the table. “Don't you think you should cool it a bit?” Eddie leans over to whisper tauntingly in his ear.

Nathan relaxes significantly and sets it back with a gentle smile, “You're right babe.”

The conversation continues in a similar fashion, words exchanged of all the grown up things their lives now consisted of. Even when they drifted apart, they were still so young, just learning how to stand on their own two feet. Over the last five years, they had all done a lot of growing up. Eddie could only hope, as everyone at the table probably did, this sentiment would carry over upon Richie's arrival.

 

“ _This is all your fault!” Bev screams, nearly at the top of her lungs as salty tears are pouring down her rosy cheeks. Ben is standing beside her, a cautious arm wrapped around her waist, to catch her if she falls, or stop her if she lunges to attack. At the particular moment, Ben can't predict which will happen._

“ _My fault?” Eddie loudly demands. There are no tears falling from his eyes but his hands shake with an intensity that easily gives away his feelings. “You think this is my fault? How the fuck is this my fault Bev?”_

“ _You basically handed him the bottle!” she sobs, smacking her hand against Ben's arm to effectively break the hold he had on her. She lunges forward and angry shoves Eddie, causing him to stumble back right into his date's arms. “If you hadn't ditched him, this wouldn't have happened!”_

_The look on Eddie's face is a mix of anger and heartbreak. To insinuate that his actions were solely responsible for their current predicament crushes him and only then do the tears trickle down his cheeks. When he speaks, his voice is low and trembling, barely able to produce the words he so desperately needs to get out. “I did everything I could for him, Bev.”_

Eddie wakes with a jolt, shooting straight up in bed. He's surprised the sudden action doesn't wake his partner, but Nathan is usually a pretty heavy sleeper to begin with. He runs a hand over his face and through his hair, grimacing at the thin layer of sweat covering his face. Throwing the blanket off of him, he slides out of bed and pads out into the main area of the cabin. His throat feels parched; he figures a glass of water will help and perhaps a stroll outside would give him the breath of fresh air he needs.

When he reaches the closed door of their room, he hears the sound of something clattering against the floor from the living room. His fingers graze against the doorknob as he silently contemplates his next move. The best weapon he can produce is one of Nathan's boots, figuring it just may be heavy enough to do some damage.

Slowly, he pushes the door open and sneaks down the hallway. He stops at the edge and stealthily peeks around the wall to see a hooded figure fumbling through the cabinets in the kitchen. He crept forward, placing each step carefully to prevent any of the floorboards from creaking and giving away his position.

He's a few steps away from the intruder and he has the boot raised over his head, clutched in between both of his hands. The second he's about to throw the boot, the person calmly spins around and in spite of the circumstances—perhaps due entirely to them—he's wearing an ear to ear grin.

“Heya Eds.”

The thud of the boot against the ground is his only response for a moment as Eddie stands in silent shock. “Rich-Richie?”

“As I live and breathe!” Richie affirms enthusiastically, dropping the hood of his black sweatshirt. He takes a few steps in Eddie's direction; there's a slight limp in his step as his left leg remains straight the entire time.

Eddie quickly holds up a hand to prevent his approach, “That's not funny,” he deadpans.

Richie's lips purse together in consideration, “Debatable.” There's another brief pause where he seems to drop his entire facade for a moment, his next words spoken with absolute sincerity, “You look good, Eddie.”

“So do you,” Eddie whispers, albeit slightly reluctant. His stance softens as he stares forward at Richie, who he hasn't seen once in five years and who is practically unrecognizable from the shell of a man he left laying, broken, in that hospital bed. He looks much older, healthier, finally at peace.

“What can I say? I clean up real nice,” he shrugs, but his seriousness is apparent. It's obviously not a just joke and the implications behind his words tie a knot in Eddie's stomach. After all the years of wondering, it's a tremendous relief to know Richie's okay. But seeing him is still an odd experience for Eddie; he wasn't sure this day would ever come and now he finds himself almost speechless.

He opens his mouth to reply, with words he hasn't quite formed yet. But before he can stumble through them, a crashing sound can be heard from outside, in the distance. It causes both of them to jump, exchanging shocked glances.

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie asks with a frown.

“I don't know,” Richie mumbles as he moves over to the window in an attempt to gauge the situation and find the source of the noise. Nothing seems out of place; but an ominous wind blows through the trees of the surrounding woods.

“I wonder if anyone else heard that,” Eddie wonders aloud, his attention turning towards the hallway and the closed bedroom doors he expected to be opening any second now.

* * *

 

**Here is your first decision. Take the time to think each choice through as even the smallest, insignificant choice can cause a deadly chain reaction.**

**Who investigates the ominous noise from the woods?**

 

**Option 1: Bev slowly awakens with a familiar tightness in her chest. It's the feeling you get when you know something bad is about to happen. Seconds later, she hears a crash of sorts from outside. She takes in a gasping breath and whips her head to the side to find Ben sound asleep. Pulling on a sweatshirt, she slips out of the room to follow this bad feeling. **

**Stan wakes suddenly, due to a noise he hears in his sleep, but as soon as he's conscious, it's already faded. Patty stirs beside him; he gently shushes her back to sleep and rolls out of bed. He slides on his slippers and shuffles out of the room to investigate the noise.**

 

**Option 2: Bill wakes up to the feeling of Audra repeatedly tapping on his arm. He groans and tries to roll away from the touch, but she persists. As he comes to, there's a worried tone in her voice, telling him of a weird noise she heard outside from moments ago. He promises to check it out, advising her to go back to sleep and stumbling out of the room in his boxers. **

**Richie frowns as he watches the movement of the wind through the trees. Him and Eddie both contemplate aloud what the disturbance could be. Between the sudden noise and the random movement of the trees, they both figure something weird is happening. Before Eddie can stop him, Richie swings the door open to check it out. **

 

**Option 3: Ben wakes up to the sight of Bev sitting up in bed beside him. He frowns and rubs a gentle hand over her back. She's rambling on about some kind of sound she heard from outside, but before she can get out of bed to check, Ben stops her. He instructs her to lay back down and presses a kiss to her forehead, promising to look into it for her.**

**Eddie rushes over to the window and stands beside Richie, staring out into the now quiet darkness. He whispers the words _what was that_ but receives no answer. Richie insists on checking it out; though being as stubborn as Eddie is, he refuses to let him and bravely heads outside.**

 

**Option 4: Of all the time spent at his cabin, Mike is used to waking up to strange noises. Most can be explained, but every so often, he hears one that immediately make him grab the shotgun he keeps beside his bed. This noise does exactly that. Gun in hand, he makes his way to the front door to find the source.**

**The faint glow from the bedside table illuminates the room as Patty lays awake in bed next to her peacefully sleeping husband. Every now and then, she finds herself completely unable to sleep. It usually happens after a particularly exhausting day, be it physically or mentally. As she reads through the pages of her book, she notes how dead quiet it is outside. Once she comes upon this realization, it's only a few seconds later and she's startled by a sudden, crashing sound. She contemplates waking Stan, but eventually decides she should take a peek outside first. She can always come back and grab him afterwards.**


	2. The One That Got Away

First to emerge from down the hallway is Patty, who's got a robe wrapped around her body, held in place by the arms tightly folded across her chest. The look on her face reads pure confusion, mixed with a hint of worry. Once she steps into the living room, it fades to shock. Her previously rushed steps slow significantly, seemingly upon the very moment she lays eyes on the man standing beside Eddie.  
  
“Richie?” she whispers in disbelief. Her gaze remains fixed on him, eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost. Deep down, it almost feels as though she had.  
  
“Hey Patty,” he murmured softly in response, his lips quirking up in a smile. “Been a while, huh?”  
  
For a moment, Patty stops in place. She opens her mouth, but no words seem to follow. She repeats the process multiple times and each time, she finds herself completely unable to produce even a single word.  
  
“Did you hear it too?” Eddie questions, after a few passing seconds of continued silence.  
  
Wordlessly, Patty nods and moves over to where Richie and Eddie remain stationed at the window. Patty now stands between them as the three of them peer outside in the dark.  
  
“What was it?”  
  
Both Eddie and Richie shrug, but neither notice the way their shoulders move in perfect unison. A certain amount of tension has settled over the three of them; hearts are racing and the exact cause is unknown.  
  
“Well I'm gonna go check it out,” Patty announces as she moves over to the door and swings it open. The gentle breeze from outside wafts into the cabin, along with the unsettling sound of quietness. Despite the time of night, there should still be something in the air. But there's nothing; or perhaps they were merely imagining it. Regardless, it put them all on edge.  
  
Richie staggers from his spot beside Eddie and resists the urge to lay a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. Small touches, such as that, used to be mindless between them. But now, especially after five years apart and no contact on top of that, things are different. Richie knows. It would be foolish to presume they could be anywhere near what they once were.  
  
Richie grunts softly as he tries to hurry his pace after Patty, who's already out on the porch. A sudden hand on his arm stops him in his place and he soon finds himself holding Eddie's gaze. Not once in all the years they had been apart did Richie ever forget how beautiful Eddie's eyes were. But still, nothing compares to the sight and for a moment, Richie swears he forgets how to breathe.  
  
“Are you sure you should be chasing after anyone with that bum leg?” The slight chuckle at the end almost sells it as a joke, but the look on Eddie's face reveals it to be honest concern.  
  
Richie's about to persist when they hear heavy footsteps from the hallway. By the time they turn around, Mike is already halfway through the living room, shotgun clutched tightly in his hand. He barrels past them without acknowledging Richie's presence.  
  
Eddie and Richie crowd around the open doorway to watch the scene unfold.  
  
“Patty!” Mike calls out, jogging down the steps of the porch to catch up with her across the driveway.  
  
Patty stops right as she hits the edge of the woods and spins around inquisitively. Mike doesn't even have time to call out to her again before a figure emerges from the treeline. Their movements are frantic and erratic as they race towards the two. They are above average height; it’s easy to tell even despite the way they hunch over slightly. Their build is slender, possibly in an unhealthy manner. It appears as though they haven’t showered for what they could only guess to be weeks from the layers of caked on dirt and, from afar, what looks to be blood.

“This is private property!” he shouts aggressively, his voice impressively unwavering. His left hand pulls the fore end of the gun back, effectively chambering a shell. “You have ten seconds to get the hell off of my property.”

As the man continues to advance forward, they can hear his labored pants of breath and the sound sends a shiver down each of their spines; there’s a certain, almost animalistic, quality to it which makes it deeply unsettling.

A glint of silver peeks from beneath the sleeve of their coat and catches Mike's eye. “Patty, stay back! He’s got a knife!”

But all too soon, the man’s standing all too close. Before Mike can progress any further, the stranger stands right behind Patty. She screams in protest, but the sound's cut short as the stranger's filthy hand covers her open mouth. Desperately, she claws at his arm and struggles in his grasp, but all these actions come to a sudden halt when she feels the tip of a blade press against her throat. Just like that, her movements still and she lets out a muffled whimper.

Mike swallows the lump in his throat; his grip on the gun loosens and he drops it to his side, though his fingers remain wrapped around the stock. “Don't hurt her!” Mike calls out, raising his other hand into the air. “C'mon, just let her go and get out of here!”

The man’s eyes are wide as they dart frantically around between Mike and the woods. With each passing second, he looks more and more crazed. “Be quiet,” he hisses, holding Mike’s gaze with an aggressive glare.

Despite the hostility, Mike persists still, though he drops the volume of his voice considerably. “ _Please_. It doesn’t have to be like this man.”

“You and your friends need to leave right now. It’s not safe out here.”

From behind the hand covering her mouth, Patty lets out a muffled cry of fear.

The stranger seems to tighten his hold, muttering through clenched teeth, “ _Shut. Up_.”

Gun remaining tightly clenched in his grip, Mike slowly inches forward, hoping to lessen the distance between them. He manages to get halfway before the stranger takes the knife from Patty’s throat and aggressively points it in his direction. His free hand shoots up to signify his stillness. "I don't think you understand how sorry you'll be if you don't shut the fuck up."

“C’mon,” Mike pleads desperately, at a complete loss for what to do next. He feels a certain amount of responsibility for the situation, considering its his property and his friend’s wife. If something were to happen to her, Stan would never forgive him and he would never be able to forgive himself. “Don’t do this,” he murmured, slowly shaking his head.

The man’s voice is ominously quiet as he mutters out the words, “Get out while you still can.”

The second the man releases Patty from his hold and pushes her in Mike's direction, he's quickly pulling the gun back into his previous position, ready to fire at a second's notice. He motions his head back towards the cabin, urging Patty to return to safety. Mike remains in place, gun focused on the stranger as he hurriedly retreats back into the woods. He glances over his shoulder and sees Patty hurrying up the steps. Slowly he begins to back up, refusing to let the treeline out of his sight until he's absolutely certain Patty is to safety. Once she is, he turns and runs back to the cabin, shutting the door and locking it. He slides the deadbolt into place with a heavy exhale of breath.  
  
"What the fuck was that Mike?" Richie questions, having been watching from the window the whole time. His voice bellows through the living room, filled with fear and confusion.  
  
Patty sits on the couch, her face buried in her hands as she does her best to stifle the sobs escaping her lips. The best she manages is a mix of sobs and sniffles, wiping desperately across her cheeks to rid them of the thick stream of tears. It’s a pointless endeavor, seeing the second she does, more replace them within seconds.

Richie limps over to the couch and sits down beside her. Tentatively, he wraps an arm around her shoulder and places his hand over her upper arm. He’s not sure if this crosses the line, or if Patty is comfortable with this kind of contact from him, especially considering the amount of time it’d been since they last saw each other.  
  
A second later, before Mike can supply any answers—although he has none whatsoever—Stan rushes into the living room, voice dripping with worry. "What's going on?"  
  
Patty turns to see him and immediately flies off the couch into his open arms, nearly knocking him over in the process. She wraps hers around his neck, tightly clinging to him as she continues to cry. Stan keeps one arm around her middle and weaves the other through her hair to keep her face buried in his neck.  
  
Mike shrugs in defeat, helplessly sighing, "I don't know,” he whispers, rubbing a hand over his face. He hates not being able to supply the answers and moreover, he hates the thought that a place he’s found to be his sanctuary over the past few years isn’t as safe as he originally thought.  
  
"Some guy had a knife to Patty's neck outside," Richie volunteers from the couch and it earns him a quick glare from Eddie, who’s been pacing back and forth across the living room. Every now and then, he peeks out the window and into the night.

"Not helpful," he barks.  
  
"What?" Stan snaps, protectively holding his shaking wife even tighter. " _Some guy_ ? Who the fuck had a goddamn knife to my wife's throat?”  
  
"It was just some weirdo," Mike offers, because at this point, he has no more answers than the rest of them do. Of all his years spent here in the summers, he's never seen anyone, especially not some freak with a bandanna and goggles. “I’ve never seen him out here before! I’ve never seen _anyone_ out here, _ever_ !”  
  
"That doesn't make me feel any better," Stan snips.  
  
"I'm fine Stan," Patty chokes out, looking up at her husband with teary green eyes. It’s truly a pathetic attempt and an absolute lie, if Stan ever witnessed one.  
  
He's still seething, but he cups both of her cheeks in the most tender way, allowing his thumbs to brush away the tears. He presses his lips to her forehead in a lingering kiss, an action reserved solely for her and no one else.  
  
"We should call the cops," Eddie chimes in, from where he’s standing in front of the large window, nervously wringing his hands together as he peers out into the pitch black darkness of the night. Right as he turns back to face the group, a movement across the treeline catches his eye and he whips his head back, but by the time he does so, the night is still once again. Suddenly, all the hair on the back of his neck stands up; a bad feeling washes over him in that moment. “This isn’t right, you guys!”  
  
"It’s late. We should all just go to bed. I’m sure everything will be fine in the morning,” Patty reasons, resting her cheek against Stan's chest. Her eyes slip shut and she allows herself to be soothed by the sound of his steady heartbeat. “Really, it's okay.”  
  
Stan wants to insist, that much is painfully obvious; but when he looks down and sees the pleading looking on his wife's face, all he can do is relent. "Okay baby love. If you're sure."  
  
"What a crazy night to reunite," Richie exclaims shakily, supplying the comic relief as he had always done before, in their carefree teenage years. Even in the face of danger, he plays this role.  
  
"Crazy indeed," Stan agrees solemnly, reaching over to shake Richie's hand as he moves over to the couple. He refuses to let go of Patty and no one can blame him at this point. "You look...healthy."  
  
"Yeah, swearing off alcohol will do that to ya," Richie explains with a chuckle that's quite awkward, even for him. "Five years sober next month."  
  
"That's awesome Rich," Mike says, clasping his hand onto Richie's shoulder. "I think I speak for everyone when I say we're proud of you."  
  
Eddie swallows the thick lump in his throat. He’s not sure where it originates, either from the recollection of all the bad memories rooting around in his mind or how different things would be if this Richie was around five years ago. He struggles to hold back the tears threatening to fall and his throat grows tighter with the effort. "I better go check on Nathan," he stammers, in a seemingly sudden way. But in his mind, he can’t seem to get out of the moment, and thus the room, quick enough.

  
The look of realization on Richie's face quickly becomes obvious to the other occupants of the room. He does his best not to broadcast the disappointment it fades to; after all these years, it would be crazy to expect Eddie to be single. And despite all that Nathan did for Eddie, and for Richie, he still found it hard to accept the fact that Eddie choose Nathan instead of himself. He tries to find solace in the fact that only his sobriety stood in the way of an entirely different outcome. But hindsight is always 20/20.  
  
“Why don't you guys go back to bed?” Mike suggests, offering the couple a gentle smile. “I'm gonna stay up for a bit. Keep an eye out.”  
  
“Thanks Mike,” Patty murmurs, slipping her hand into Stan's and tugging him towards the hallway. Stan peeks over his shoulder and mouths a quick, “Thank you,” to Mike before they return to their room. A soft click of their door shutting echoes through the cabin.  
  
Mike settles on the couch, setting his shotgun on the cushion beside him. Richie plops down on the opposite side and props his leg up on the adjacent sectional. The atmosphere feels thick, with tension, guilt, fear, a countless list of nameless things. A deep silence settles around them and it's only broken when Eddie comes rushing back into the living room, huffing out in panicked breaths.  
  
“Nathan's gone and I can't find him anywhere and he's not answering his phone and I don't know what to do,” he rambles, his panic building in intensity with each word spoken.  
  
“Okay Eddie, just calm down,” Mike instructs, in an alarmingly calm tone, especially as he's reaching for his gun and flying off the couch. “We'll find him.”  
  
Eddie looks as though he's on the verge of tears and, even though it's over someone else, Richie's heart breaks for him. In no time, he's following after them through the cabin and towards the backdoor. Mike motions for the two of them to stay behind him as he slowly pushes the door open.  
  
The second it creaks open, a loud scream pierces the air and before it dies, Eddie is already lurching forward to push past the other two. Both Richie and Mike reach out to prevent him from recklessly running out into the open, especially considering what they had witnessed just moments prior; but neither have much luck and soon enough, they're chasing after him instead.  
  
When they round the corner, Richie's heart drops. Pressed up against the wall of the cabin is Eddie, who's got an arm pressed against his chest to keep him in place; the owner stands around the same height as the mysterious stranger from earlier and having their hood up makes them impossible to accurately identify. All Richie knows is that he springs into action before he can think any rational thought, even before Mike could react.  
  
In the short distance, he gains as much speed as he can to barrel into the attacker; but a stiff arm shoots out and easily pushes him to the ground, preventing his rescue. He lands with a grunt and tries to brace his fall with his arm stretched behind him. Mike rushes over to him and immediately puts himself in between Richie and the stranger. Without a hint of hesitation, he brings his gun up and points it at the hooded figure.

“Get away from him!” Mike shouts as he holds the gun steady, the barrel practically pressed against the stranger’s chest. His finger moves to curl around the trigger as the hooded figure makes a sudden movement. It’s a frantic jump back, away from Eddie as visibly trembling hands reach up to tear the hoodie off and a terrified voice calls out desperately, “Oh fuck! Don’t shoot! Don’t fucking shoot me!”

“ _Nathan?_ ”

“Are you insane?” Mike demands angrily, dropping the gun to his side and doing little to keep his voice at a reasonable volume. With the amount of rage flowing through him, he forgets all about the lesson from the previous interactions they had with the aggressive stranger. “What is wrong with you?”  
  
“Jesus christ, it was just a joke!” Nathan exclaims sharply, not moving from his spot across the porch, his hands still raised in the air.  “I figured it was just Eddie.”

“Well it wasn't very funny,” Eddie snaps, shooting his partner a heavy glare before stomping over to where Richie still sat on the ground. “Are you okay Richie?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I'm good,” Richie easily brushes it off with a dismissive wave of his hand, despite the dull ache now residing in his leg, which must he must have stepped on wrong, or perhaps twisted in the fall. It didn't take much to agitate it these days.  
  
Eddie seems to notice and crouches down beside him, guiding Richie to wrap an arm around his shoulders to help him stand up. He does, easily enough with Eddie's assistance.  
  
“You wanna help him inside?” Eddie asks Mike quietly, holding back a certain amount of anger in the softness of his tone. He passes Richie off to Mike, who’s obviously still fuming, and watches as they walk towards the back door, their pace not the slightest bit rushed. Mike always did have the most amount of patience out of their group, even in the darkest of situations.  
  
As they disappear, the air is tense between the lovers. Eddie stands, completely still as his gaze locks onto Nathan's; barely a second passes and his expression softens at the amount of guilt he can see written on Nathan's face. He reaches his hand out towards his partner, his lips curling up in the slightest smile.  
  
“Eddie, I'm sorry,” Nathan murmurs as he steps towards Eddie and grab his hand, lacing their fingers together. “You just...you told me all these stories about all the pranks you guys used to play on each other back in high school and I don't know—I thought it'd be funny.”  
  
“Maybe under other circumstances,” Eddie answers vaguely, pulling him towards the back door. “It was a good first try though.”  
  
Nathan playfully rolls his eyes, “You're just saying that.”  
  
“Guilty.”  
  
“Maybe we should all go inside before that maniac comes back,” Richie suggests, holding onto the doorway as he leans his body outside.  
  
“Oh hey, it's Richie again,” Nathan says tightly, his attention faltering from Eddie for a moment to land on Richie. When he's met with a cheesy grin, he glances back over at his partner. “Wait, what maniac?”  
  
“Like I said, maybe... _inside_ ,” Richie repeats, ending with a click of his tongue as he jerks his head towards the inside of the cabin. Before he turns to retreat back inside, he catches a glimpse of Nathan draping an arm across Eddie's shoulders. He pretends his stomach doesn't churn at the sight of Eddie's fingers grasping the hand resting against his collarbone; he pretends his mind doesn't fill with memories of him and Eddie in a similar position. But the sound of Nathan's voice growing more and more panicked breaks him free of the miserable cycle of memories taunting him.  
  
“What's going on Eddie?”  
  
“I don't know,” he murmurs in defeat, looking up and meeting Nathan's gaze with his own frightened stare. “There was some crazy guy who came out of the woods and had a knife to Patty’s throat.”

Nathan’s brows furrowed in concern, “Are the cops on their way?”

Eddie shrugs helplessly and shakes his head, exhaling a quivering breath, “No, Patty didn’t want to. _It’s late_.”

“Who fucking cares if it’s late?” Nathan demands, his voice raised above a normal speaking volume. “We need to call them! Better yet, we should just get out of here!”

“No,” Eddie whispers in defeat, his head hanging low. “I just want to go to bed and forget all about this day.”

Nathan's face softens; he steps closer and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist. “It's okay. You're safe. I got you,” he whispers, pulling Eddie close and holding him tight. They stand in the middle of the laundry room, right beside the backdoor, embracing each other closely.  
  
Richie hangs his head, a painful anguish settling in the pit of his stomach as he returns to the living room alongside Mike. He's sure it's written all over his face. He never was the best at concealing his emotions and he always hated that about himself. He was an open book; he hated every single page until the right person came along to read them and truly understood what was written. But a few poorly written chapters had the gravest effect on the ending. Not a day passes by where Richie doesn't wish he could change it again.  
  
Richie falls down onto the couch with a heavy sigh, settling in the junction between the two sections. He props his leg up on the couch and attempts to rub the tension from his knee.  
  
Mike glances over in his direction and notices the grimace painted across his face. “From the accident?”  
  
“Yeah,” Richie answers with a solemn nod. “Hasn't really been the same since.”  
  
Even Mike can tell his answer isn't solely focused on his physical state. And neither is Mike's reply when he says, “You've done a lot of recovering since then.”  
  
Richie looks up with a forlorn shine in his eyes as Eddie and Nathan walk by, hand in hand as they head off to bed with nothing more than a small wave. “Yeah, we all have.”  
  
  
Eddie wakes early in the morning. Though it's debatable to say he “wakes up,” considering how little sleep he got throughout the night. He glances over at Nathan, who's sleeping peacefully beside him. Pushing aside the hint of resentment he feels, he slips out of bed and pulls on a hoodie. As quietly as he can, he pads out into the living room. He tries to prevent the fond smile from worming its way onto his face, but he can't help it when he sees Richie asleep on the couch, his mouth hung open as he snores loudly. Eddie takes the blanket draped over the back of the couch and carefully spreads over Richie, as to not wake him. He stirs slightly and hums in content, but otherwise remains asleep.  
  
Eddie's fingers itch to brush back the stray pieces of hair that have fallen from the bun atop his head. He really wants to find it ridiculous, but paired with his scruffy facial hair, it really works for him. His heart swells with pride when he thinks about how good Richie looks, how much better he looks compared to the last time Eddie saw him.  
  
The sun is just beginning to rise. Painted in a mix of oranges and yellows, with a hint of purple mixed in, the sight's absolutely breathtaking. Eddie walks over to the dock and sits down on the edge of it, dipping his feet into the water as he stares up at the sunrise, an introspective mood settling over him.  
  
_“Eds!” Richie calls happily from his spot on the couch as Eddie comes through the door of their shared apartment. He slips his coat off and hangs it on the hook by the door, along with his keys; he kicks off his shoes and makes his way into the living room. With a heavy sigh, he rubs a frustrated hand over his face at the sight of empty beer bottles strewn about their coffee table. There were more than when Eddie asked Richie to clean them up this morning, before he got home from work._  
  
_Tightly clenching his jaw and exhaling furious breaths through his nose, he picks up the scattered bottles, as many as he can fit in each hand. The heavy glass crashes into the recycle with a haphazard thud. After a second trip, he returns to the living room and stands in front of the couch._  
  
_“I asked you to do one thing,” he states coldly._  
  
_The beaming expression on Richie's face quickly fades to a frown, “I'm sorry baby.”_  
  
_Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as he can feel the tears beginning to gather at the corners. He wants to forgive Richie again, tell him it's okay again, but he just can't. He can't do it anymore. “You're always sorry,” he whispers shakily, “I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to not do this anymore.” He emphasizes his point by scooping up the last beer bottle from the table and storming to the kitchen to throw it away. “If you keep this up, you're going to ruin your life Richie.”_  
  
_“It's already ruined,” Richie replies, his voice lacking any and all emotion._  
  
_Eddie swallows the lump and purses his lips together as he stares up at the ceiling. Hot tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. To a degree, he knows Richie places no blame on him; an unfortunate series of circumstances led them here. But there's only so much he can do, only so much help he can offer only to have it rejected, time and time again._  
  
_“I can't do this anymore,” Eddie says slowly, heartache evident in his voice. The tone seems to be lost on Richie._  
  
_“What're you talking 'bout baby?” Richie slurs, staring up at Eddie in confusion._  
  
_“I can't be with you Richie,” Eddie explains, inhaling a shaky breath as tears begin to trickle down his cheeks. His chest aches intensely at the mere idea, but his options have run thin. “I love you. So much. But I can't watch you drink yourself to death.”_  
  
_Richie stays silent as he continues to sit on the couch. It almost looks like he's mulling it over, processing the information presented to him. But in the end, it's clear he's unable to fully do so._  
  
_After a moment of silence, Eddie wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. It's a pointless action because the second they're gone, more take their place in pouring down his cheeks. “I'm gonna stay with Mike for a while. I'll, uh—I'll come back for my stuff. Eventually.”_  
  
_The entire time Eddie packs an overnight bag, deep sobs rack his chest. They easily escape despite his attempts to hold them back and because of it, he doesn't hear the sound of Richie stumbling into the room._  
  
_“Eds, please don't do this,” he begs softly, “Not tonight. Just stay here. And we'll talk about it in the morning.”_  
  
_Eddie slings his bag over his shoulder and turns to face Richie, which he soon finds to be a mistake. Looking into Richie's eyes and knowing he has to walk away is the most painful thing he's ever experienced. But he knows it needs to be done and he needs to move on with his life. There seems to be no end in sight and he swore last time, would in fact be, the last time._  
  
_As he reaches the door, he lifts a hand to caress over Richie's cheek. “I'm sorry.”_  
  
_Eddie reaches the end of the hallway before Richie calls out to him again, “Eddie, wait!”_  
  
_He stops, back still facing Richie, who still stands in the doorway of their shared bedroom. The amount of hope that fills his chest feels pathetic. This is it. Richie's done. He's finally ready to fight for them._  
  
_“Can you write this down? I don't think I'm gon' remember it in the morning.”_  
  
_The breath he'd been holding slips out in a tearful exhale. He presses his hand to his mouth to prevent a sob from sounding as he takes a quiet moment to compose himself before making his way to the living room. He rips a page out of Richie's notebook and grabs a pen to scribble two messy words across the page. Then, without looking back, he walks right out the front door._  
  
By the time the memory fades, tears are pouring down Eddie's cheeks. He wipes them away using the sleeve of his hoodie as he watches the sunrise beautifully symbolize new beginnings and second chances. How fitting, he thinks bitterly to himself, causing more tears to trickle down his cheeks. He kicks his feet through the chilled water and tries his hardest to prevent his mind from straying to more heart wrenching memories.  
  
Soft footsteps sound from behind him and he quickly attempts to make it look like he hadn't been crying his heart out. With a deep breath, he turns just in time to see Richie sitting down beside him on the edge of the dock, his pants are already rolled up past his ankles.  
  
“Hey, how're you doing?” he asks; his voice a far cry from it's usually lighthearted, easy going tone.  
  
Eddie wordlessly shrugs, watching the water ripple as he aimlessly kicks his feet. His gaze lands on the thick scars peeking out from beneath Richie's pants. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he finally answers in a voice barely above a whisper, “It's weird being here.”

“Yeah, that guy seemed kinda crazy,” Richie nods in agreement, finally submerging his feet in the water as well.

Eddie simply nods, content to let Richie think that's what he meant, despite it being far from the truth.

“So Nathan really is a great guy huh?” Richie asks, somewhat awkwardly as he joins in kicking his legs back and forth. “Seems real funny.”

Eddie sighs as he shakes his head, “He's not usually like that. I don't know what's gotten into him.”

“C'mon Eds,” Richie chuckles, ignoring how easily the nickname slips out. “You gotta give him some credit. This can't be easy for him.”

“I guess,” Eddie murmurs, clearly unconvinced, “I told him he didn't have to come though.”

“Yeah but if my current partner was going to spend almost a week at a remote cabin with their ex, I'd rather tag along too,” Richie reasons, digging a lighter out of his pocket. He grabs the cigarette hidden behind his ear and tucks it between his lips, lighting it with ease.

Eddie shoots him an expression filled with disbelief, “You still smoke?” He asks incredulously.

Richie laughs and shakes his head, “What do you want from me? I gave up the bad habits.”

“You don't think smoking is a bad habit?” Eddie questions, raising an inquisitive eyebrow as he continues to stare Richie down.

“Comparatively? Not by a long shot.”

“Fair enough,” Eddie says with a shrug. He reaches over to take the cigarette from between Richie's lips and bring it to his own. As he inhales, he does his best to ignore the hole Richie's eyes are burning into the side of his head. His eyes remain shut as he tilts his head up and exhales the long puff of smoke into the air. He relishes the sense of comfort it brings him.

“It's been a while since I've seen you smoke,” Richie recalls, a fondness in his voice hiding behind casualness. The only time Eddie ever smoked was when he felt particularly stressed and even then, he always refused to acknowledge it was something he did. But Richie always noticed.

Eddie chuckles softly, taking another long drag before passing it back to Richie, “I steal one from Nathan's pack every now and then. He never seems to notice.”

 _They remind me of you,_ Eddie wants to say, but the words die before they reach his lips. He waves his hand dismissively towards the cigarette Richie offers to him, content to just take in the scent as he continues smoking.

“That's a shame,” Richie mutters, the words barely audible due to the cigarette held between his teeth.

“Hmmm?”

“I said it's a shame--” Richie repeats, but this time, much more upbeat than before. Always ready to hide his true intentions behind humor. It's easier that way. “Nathan probably smokes lights, huh?”

Eddie erupts into laughter as he nods fervently, “He _so_ does!”

Richie smiles as he inhales the last drag; the sounds of Eddie's laughter fills him with a bittersweet mix of fondness and longing. Even before their relationship had ended, it'd been a while since Richie heard that sound and even longer since he'd been the cause. It feels good, Richie can't deny that. Yet at the same time, he desperately yearns for more. He knows it’s not in his future, but it’s a nice thought regardless.

Silence settles over the two of them for a long moment before Eddie looks over at Richie, his unwavering stare heavy with longing. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as though he’s uttering the deepest secret.

Richie’s heart flutters in the most hopeful way at those three words. Even more so as he feels Eddie’s head dip down to rest on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” he murmurs in a tone just as gentle as Eddie’s had been. Without thinking, he turns his head to the side and presses a chaste kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. Almost immediately, he pulls back, cursing his mind for allowing him to do such a thing. It feels so natural, an obvious reflex leftover from their previous relationship, but Richie knows that, with Nathan in the picture, the action is not exactly appropriate.

But luckily, Eddie doesn’t seem to notice and even if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. As a result, Richie gently rests his head against Eddie’s.  No more words are spoken between the two, both of them content to focus on the rising sun bringing about a brand new day. Soon enough, the rest of the group would be awake and their peaceful little world interrupted.

They both return to the cabin a short while later; Eddie walks in after Richie, into the living room full of everyone who was already awake and mingling. Stan and Patty were curled up on the couch together; she’s wearing what appears to be his sweatshirt and her head rests on his chest with her eyes slipped shut. His fingers lightly trace up and down her arm in a slow, soothing manner. Ben joins them on the opposite side of the sectional and right beside him, on the edge of the couch, is Bill. Mike’s sitting on the coffee table, his feet planted firmly on the ground as he engages with those on the couch.

All the attention in the room is momentarily focused on them as they walk over; but before anyone can say anything, the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut draws their attention away. Bev emerges into the living room, a hand pressed to her stomach as the other reaches up to wipe her thumb over the corner of her mouth.

“Are you okay, Bev?” Patty asks, her voice meek but thick with concern.

Bev’s cheeks puff out as she exhales a thick breath. Her gaze shifts up from where it’s focused on the floor and the remaining color in her face immediately drains.

“Hey Bev,” Richie greets her shakily, with a small, but nervous, smile plastered on his face.

“You actually showed up?” Bev shakes her head as she lets out a bark of laughter, a bitter edge to it. She stomps a straight line up to Richie and, without an ounce of hesitation, draws her hand up to slap him across the face. “After five years of radio silence, you finally decided to show up huh?!”

Richie sobers up quickly from it, pursing his lips slightly as he looks forward at Bev. He nods slowly, mostly in understanding. The atmosphere is tense, shock hanging thickly in the air as everyone watches the interaction between the two of them. “I deserve that,” he mutters quietly.

Tears well up in Bev’s eyes as she stares up at Richie, at a face she hasn’t seen in half a decade. A heavy wave of emotions wash over her; anger, betrayal, happiness, _relief._ She throws her arms around his neck and pulls him into a tight hug; his arms curl around her waist and his chin rests on her shoulder. The two hold each other close in a hug that speaks the million of thoughts and emotions between them, the exact ones they could never manage to speak aloud. After a long few moments, Bev pulls away from him, a thick stream of tears trickling down her cheeks. Richie reaches up with both of his hands, cupping her cheeks so he can thumb away her tears. He lets out a quivering breath as he leans in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead.

“You look damn good, Tozier,” Bev says with a teary chuckle.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Marsh,” he replies, sniffling as he turns his attention towards Ben, whose eyes are glued to the two of them. “ _Haystack_.”

Ben lets out a soft chuckle as he walks over and wraps Richie in a tight hug.

Richie returns it enthusiastically, arms wrapped firmly around Ben. “You still taking care of my girl?”

“Of course,” Ben beams as the two of them pull apart. With all his might, Ben tries to swallow the resentment he still feels towards Richie. For the most part, he’s a very understanding person; he possesses more empathy than most people, and perhaps that works against him at times. But part of him is still angry for the amount of stress and worry Richie put everyone through, especially Bev, over the past five years.

“Because _some_ people actually keep their promises,” Bev snarls, poking a finger to Richie's chest. Her emotions aren’t as easily concealed as her boyfriend’s. At least in regards to her anger; she is always open with her anger. Although, one could argue a number of other emotions were hiding behind the vocal anger, that it was merely a mask to cover up the real emotions she felt.

It would be foolish of Richie to assume everything could go back to how things were before everything went down, before the incident that caused the chain of reactions leading up to the accident which thankfully served as the crescendo of the most trying years any of them had faced in their short lives. Richie bore the brunt of the suffering, as it was his own life which had lead to these exact circumstances. But he could never deny the short straw Eddie drew in regards to it all. Not a day passed he didn’t wish he could turn the clock back and make better decisions, make the right ones to keep Eddie. But at the same time, he knew he was in no place to give Eddie what he deserved at the time.

“I know,” Richie whispers meekly, a hint of shame dancing on the edge of his tone. Before it can emerge, Bev slides an arm around his middle and leans against him as he drapes his arm over her shoulders.

“Mike was just filling us in on what happened last night,” Ben informs them, his attention immediately turning back as Mike continues to tell them about the unstable stranger warning them to 'stay away’ and 'keep quiet’.

Patty visibly shakes at the retelling, snuggling even closer to her husband, as if that was at all possible in their current position. Bill looks disturbed, his fingers scraping idly over a tear in his jeans. The nervous energy radiating off of him is painfully obvious.

The atmosphere is tense as Mike continues to describe the encounter and when the question arises of why the police weren't called, Patty's about to speak up. However, the second she sits up, the door is flying open and smacking loudly against the wall as Nathan stumbles in, drenched in sweat and gulping for breath.

Eddie's heart immediately begins to race as he rushes over to his partner, pushing away the ill-timed thought of Nathan seeing him and Richie together on the dock. With the way he busted through the door, obviously something more pressing is happening.

“Nate, what's going on?” Eddie demands frantically as he wraps an arm around Nathan's middle to support his unsteady weight.

“Call 911,” he gasps out, sucking in a deep breath and swallowing hard before trying to steady his breathing.

Eddie fishes his phone out of his pocket with a trembling hand and dials the number. He presses the phone to his ear as he guides Nathan over to the couch, where everyone moves to make room for him. “Fuck!” Eddie exclaims as his phone refuses to connect long enough to gain service.

“Eddie, here!” Mike calls and shortly after, he's tossing the cordless landline over to him.

“What's happening?” Eddie asks again, kneeling in front of Nathan as he once again dials 911.

“I was ruh-running through the woods,” Nathan begins, his breath still coming out in short pants. “And I saw….I didn't know what it was at first. But I got closer and it was,” he swallows the lump in his throat as the image plays over in his head, like something out of a horror movie. “De-dead body.”

Eddie nearly drops the phone but somehow manages to grip it tighter as the call goes through and the operator inquires about his emergency. He declares they need help and that there's a dead body in the woods of the cabin they're staying at. The operator asks a series of question in which Eddie has no clue how to answer, but he does the best he can with the amount of panic and confusion bustling around in his mind. He supplies them with the address after Mike rattles it off to him. “They’re on their way,” he says, as he hangs up.

At this point, Bill has flown off the couch and is tugging on his sneakers by the door. “Who was it?” he asks, his voice quivering with apprehension.

“I don’t know,” Nathan whispers, shaking his head where it rests in his hands.

“What the fuck do you mean _you don’t know_?” Bill demands harshly, spinning around to stare back at him, “Did it look like my fucking girlfriend?”

Nathan shrugs his shoulders in defeat, unable to look up to meet Bill’s eyes as he answers, “There wasn’t...enough left to identify.”

Bill doesn’t skip a beat, immediately reaching out for the doorknob, but before he can rip the door open, Mike rushes over and slams his hand flat against the wood surface. He stands, practically chest to chest with Bill as he attempts to move closer to the door, “No. No one’s going anywhere until the cops come.”

“That could be Audra out there!” Bill shouts hysterically, his hands flying up to aggressively comb through his hair. Every worst case scenario runs through his head in a flash of devastation; all he wants is to make sure his girlfriend is safe. “My girlfriend could be fucking dead! Maybe that fucking psycho from last night killed her!”

Nathan shakes his head again, slowly in a disbelieving fashion. “No, there’s no way,” he mutters, clearly traumatized by the experience. “Another human being did that…”

Everyone’s attention is drawn to the interaction, a mix of horror and confusion written across their faces. The only person whose gaze hasn’t fallen on the others is Patty, who has her face buried in Stan’s neck as she whimpers fearfully. Stan does his best to comfort his wife, holding her close and whispering the most comforting words he can conjure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bill chants as he angrily paces back and forth through the living room, refusing to still even as Mike attempts to calm him down. Bev and Ben both race over to the large window to peer out into the quiet woods. Without looking, Ben reaches over to grab Bev’s shaking hand and squeezes it in his own.

Richie remains silent as he watches Eddie comfort his partner, sitting down next to him on the couch and rubbing a slow, soothing hand over his back. He makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water, before returning to the living room and handing it to Nathan, who takes it with a slight nod of appreciation.

In reality, a fairly short amount of time passes by before the cops show up. But it feels like an eternity with the amount of tension and fear hanging in the air. But finally the sound of tires rolling over the loose gravel road alerts them of the cops’ arrival and somehow the unease in the room seems to triple. Mike pulls the door open and is the first to step outside to greet them, considering it is, in fact, his property. Right behind him runs out Bill and next to follow is Nathan, guided by Eddie’s gentle words of encouragement as he walks out the door with him.

“C’mon baby love,” Stan whispers against Patty’s temple, placing a gentle kiss there before easing her into sitting up. He rubs a hand over her back, “The cops’ll probably wanna talk to you.”

She sniffles and nods slowly, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. With Stan’s help, she stands from the couch and, with her hand tightly clasped in his, follows him out of the cabin.

Bev, Ben, and Richie all remain inside, practically pressed up against the glass of the window as they watch the others talking to the two police officers. Some time passes before Nathan points towards the woods, and shortly after, the two officers are following him in. The moment following reveals a figure emerging from the woods and the relief clearly washes over Bill as Audra jogs over to them, clad in athletic attire, a concerned look etched on her face.

A few minutes go by before they emerge again. All the color has drained from Nathan’s face; both officers look disgruntled and appear to launch into an explanation when the three of them return to the awaiting group. Their attention shifts to where Stan and Patty stand, still intertwined. They appear to exchange words for a short amount of time; Stan takes the card stretched out to him and the group watches the officers pile back into their car.

Slowly, they all return to the cabin, save for Nathan and Eddie. The two remain outside in the middle of the driveway; they’re still until the second they’re alone outside and then Eddie’s hands plant firmly on his hips while Nathan’s fly into the air.

It feels wrong, to the seven of them crowding around the window, to witness what the two lovers presume to be a private moment. There’s clear amount of hostility between them as they begin to shout back and forth; even though the volume of their voices is evident, their words are not. From the inside of the cabin, they sound muffled.

“What’s going on?” Richie asks curiously, from where he sits on the edge of the couch. The second Eddie and Nathan remained outside, he backed away from the window, wanting to give the couple their privacy.

“They couldn’t find any body,” Mike explains solemnly, as the rest of the group continues to invade the moment, which seems to be gaining intensity with each passing second.

“I didn’t see or hear anything out there during my run,” Audra supplies with a halfheartedly shrug, “And there’s only really one feasible trail out there.”

The door aggressively swings open and those standing by the window attempt to scatter, in a natural looking way. Not that it particularly mattered due to the way the two come barrelling in and immediately through the living room, continuing to yell all the while.

“You know, I would love it if you could be on my side, _just this once_!” Nathan exclaims as he strides across the living room, refusing to turn his attention back to Eddie, who’s stomping right after him.

“How do I know this wasn’t just another stupid, attention grabbing prank?” Eddie shoots right back, his tone uneven as he follows Nathan. With the police having come and gone without any evidence of said body, the likelihood of him telling the truth seems slim.

“Ummm...geez, I don’t know! Maybe just fucking trust me?” Those are the last audible words before the two of them disappear into the room they’re staying in. Not a single word is spoken between those in the living room as they wait. Unlike before, every word shouted between the two of the them is perfectly audible.

“I do! But you’ve been acting weird ever since we got here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the only one.”

“What the hell is supposed to mean?”

“...I saw you and Richie out on the dock.”

All the attention in the living room seems to linger on Richie. He rubs a hand over his mouth, a gesture which explicitly expressed the amount of regret he felt. The moment was innocent enough, but he could understand how it looked from an outside perspective, especially from that of a partner.

From inside the room, there’s only silence. When they resume speaking, it’s much harder to hear this time around, not entirely impossible but their tone is much softer.

“I can’t do this anymore, Eddie. It’s too much. I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

Sure enough, Nathan comes storming back out, his boots stomping against the hardwood as he carries his bag slung over his shoulder. Though his attention remains fixed on the door, there are tears shining in his eyes. His jaw is tightly clenched, seemingly to prevent the quivering of his lips.

“I’m out of here,” he mutters dismissively, barely above a shaky whisper as he rushes out the front door and slams it shut behind him.

Eddie emerges from the bedroom, his feet shuffling along the floor as he walks over to the kitchen. He stands on his tip toes to grab a small cup from the top shelf and then the bottle of whiskey from the counter behind him. It pours a few splashes into the cup and throws it back, slamming the glass down with enough force to make it surprising that it does not shatter on impact.

“Eddie…?” Bev calls gently as she stands at the entryway of the kitchen.

“Are you happy?” Eddie demands bitterly, glancing over to the right to meet Bev’s gaze. Tears have sprung to his eyes and his hand, where its still gripping the cup, trembles violently.

Bev frowns, attempting to conceal her true feelings on the matter. From the day they got together, she disapproved of Nathan; he seemed like a nice enough guy, but Bev knew who Eddie was truly supposed to be with. After years of being together, of pain and suffering the two of them got through together, she couldn’t stand to see them fall apart. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she murmurs unconvincingly. “Of course I’m not happy.”

Eddie scoffs and pours himself another drink, this one significantly fuller than the last. “ _Please_ Bev, at least give me the respect of your honest opinion. You always did before.”

“What do you want me to say?” Bev questions quietly, throwing her arms up in defeat.

Eddie downs the brown liquid in his cup and tosses it into the empty sink. He turns back around to face Bev…

 

* * *

 

**Here is your next decision. Take the time to think each choice through as even the smallest, insignificant choice can cause a deadly chain reaction.**

**What happens next?**

**Option 1: Eddie can feel the anger bubbling up in his chest. He knows exactly how Bev feels, even if she won’t admit it. They were all friends but her and Richie seemed to connect on an even deeper level. So of course, she would be rooting for him and Richie to end up together. But she didn’t realize the extent of the problems they faced so many years ago, before everything that happened, yet she blindly continues to despise every choice he made from there on out. But finally in that moment, he’d had enough and couldn’t hold back the vicious eruption of fiery words telling Bev exactly how he felt.**

**Option 2: Eddie didn’t expect any of the events of the past two days. Yet, Nathan leaving still shocked him the most of anything. He could only imagine how Nathan felt and the guilt settling in his gut practically burned. But there was a reason for it; Eddie knew it. When he looked out into the living room full of his friends and their partners, he** **_felt_ ** **it, when his eyes briefly landed on Richie. Perhaps there’s a small degree of truth to how Bev felt. Without that thought running through his mind, Eddie brushes past Bev and runs out of the cabin, without looking back.**

 **Option 3: Bev feels the words as they dance on the tip of her tongue. She wants to tell Eddie exactly how she feels, because in her mind, she believes, maybe now, the world can realign and things can return to normal. Despite her own settling resentment towards him, Richie is back and healthy now; there should be no reason why the two of them, with a lot of hard work, can’t make things work again. It’s stupid for them to think there’s no possibility of that. She opens her mouth to tell him exactly that, when she feels a gentle hand on the small of her back and turns her head to see Ben standing there with a smile, clearly** **_purposefully_ ** **interrupting her before she can.**


	3. In Venere Veritas

The amount of anger rising in his chest is one Eddie is familiar with; on multiple occasions he has felt it, so strong it threatens to bring tears to his eyes. His fingers clench tightly to his palms, nails digging into the sensitive flesh as he attempts to still any trace of shakiness in his limbs. He knows it's most likely a pointless action, but he follows through nonetheless; he'll be damned if anyone can see through his facade.

“I want the truth,” he whispers, and though it's barely audible, his voice is unwavering. “You owe me that much.”

“Oh, I owe you?” Bev questions with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, “Is that what you think?”

“You know what I _think_?” Eddie spat right back, the words flying off his tongue the second his mind produces them, before he can think through the ramifications, “You blame me for what happened because that's easier than facing the truth and admitting that you feel guilty because you could've done more!”

Bev shakes her head with a roll of her eyes, “Really?” She chuckles and there's a sharp edge to it. “I could've done more? That's why you think I'm pissed at you?”

“So you fucking admit it!” Eddie exclaims angrily, biting back the tears threatening to surface. “I knew it. You've blamed me since the day it happened!”

“What do you want me to say Eddie?” She asks, her voice going soft in defeat, “You broke his heart then abandoned him when he really needed you.”

“Did you ever stop to think how I felt? What _I_ was going through?” He questions desperately. The rest of the room is tense, but silent as they listen to their friends go back and forth, without any clue how to stop it. Ben hovers behind Bev, ready to spring into action if need be and right behind him is Richie, tempted to stop in between the two of them and end it. “You don't care about me half as much as you care about Richie!”

“That's not true and you know it!” Bev snaps, aggressively pointing her finger in his direction, almost forcing Ben into action at the sudden movement. It's obvious to see how uncomfortable he is, despite the fact that he no doubts supports Bev blindly.

“You've never even considered my side of the story! Do you even know the hell I went through before our relationship ended?” Eddie insists. He's so caught up in the moment that he doesn't notice the slight hurt to pass across Richie's face.

“It's not my fault that you didn't reach out! You just blew up one day!” Bev shoots right back.

“Oh, don't even! You guys all knew how much he drank and what did you do about it? Nothing!” Eddie shouts, furiously wiping at the few escaped tears. “You all just went about your lives while I was killing myself trying to fix him!”

After those words escape his lips, everything falls silent. Bev's left speechless, as is everyone else in the cabin. Even the noises outside seem to lull for one painfully intense moment as an expression of hurt sinks in on Richie's face.

“Wow Eddie,” he whispers, sniffling as he runs a hand over his face. “Why don't you tell me how you really feel?”

“Richie, I’m--” Before Eddie can even form a proper apology in his mind, let alone out loud, Richie gently shakes his head and turns, briskly walking towards the door.

“Real nice Eddie,” Bev mutters, a slightly malicious tone to her voice as she spins to follow after him. But Ben stops her before she's able, having seen the pain and regret in Eddie's eyes the entire time and wanting to do his part to help the two. He would always be on Bev’s side no matter what, but sometimes, her stubbornness stood in the way of things that weren’t particularly her business.

Eddie brushes past them and follows after Richie, jogging down the steps of the porch to chase after him where he's running towards the trees. Once Eddie finally catches up to him, his back is turned so he doesn't see him approaching and by now, they are far from the view of the cabin.

They're both out of breath from the run, but there's an extra edge to pants he hears from Richie; they're interrupted every few seconds by a harsh sniffle. He's got both of his hands buried in his hair, fingers pressed to his scalp and messing up the still ridiculous man bun atop his head. Eddie can see the way his back muscles tense when the sound of a snapping branch alerts him of his presence.

“You know what really sucks?” He doesn't turn around. His voice is wavering drastically, sounding wet with tears and barely held together. “I have spent the last five years recovering from the lowest point in my life. I've made so many stupid mistakes that I'll have to live with for the rest of my life. And I'm damn proud of how far I have come,” Richie pauses to exhale a shaky breath, his hands moving to hang loosely by his side.

Even from where Eddie is standing, a good few feet away, he can see how intensely they tremble. “But when I'm here, around everyone again, I'm just reminded about how I fucked everything up,” he takes another pause, the whole world around them falling dramatically still for that moment as he turns around, “ _Especially_ with you, Eds.”

Tears well up in Eddie's eyes, an ache spreading across his chest at Richie's genuinely pained words. He couldn’t imagine the amount of regret and anguish Richie felt regarding the whole situation; just hearing a fraction of it in his voice absolutely shattered his heart.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t _hate_ myself for what I did to you,” Richie laments softly, taking a few steps towards Eddie. His pace is deliberate, gaze fixed intensely on Eddie’s. “You deserved so much better. I just wish I had realized that years ago.”

Eddie finds himself at a total loss for words as he looks up at Richie, who’s now standing right before him. He reaches up with a tender touch to wipe away the few tears trickling down from his bright blue eyes. “Richie,” he whispers. “I don’t even--”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Richie interjects and reaches up to thread his fingers through the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck. Eyes fluttering shut, he tilts his head forward, until their foreheads are pressed against one another. The action elicits a soft exhale from Eddie and in turn, Richie can feel the breath on his lips. Subconsciously, his tongue darts out to wet them, perhaps in reflection of the aching desire burning a hole through his chest and straight to his heart. It leaves him feeling the most vulnerable he had since five years prior, lying helpless on that hospital bed, alone. But he isn’t now; and he’ll be damned if he makes the same mistake twice.

Richie brings his other hand up to cup his cheek as he leans in to capture Eddie’s bottom lip between his own. The simple contact lights his skin ablaze, in a perfect balance of nerves and yearning cultivated over years.

He becomes painfully aware of his touch on Eddie and how little he’s reacting; his hands hover over Richie’s forearms, but refuse to make contact. It’s almost as if he’s frozen in shock and the second Richie realizes this, his mind is seized by an instant wave of regret. In one quick moment, he completely breaks apart from Eddie, shaking his head and muttering out a rushed ‘ _sorry’_ before immediately running back towards the cabin. He leaves Eddie in the middle of the woods, still attempting to process exactly what had just happened.

 

_The hospital bed feels cold and it’s hardly due to the frigid temperature of the room he’s staying in. He’s been awake for some time now, though the concept is hard to grasp without an actual way to tell it. Richie can only guess it’s been hours, based on the number of agonizing minutes he’s spent wishing he never woke up at all. Perhaps things would be simpler if that were the case; he knows, for damn sure, everyone would be far better off without him._

_People are in and out of his room, nurses mostly, who keep asking how his pain is. He doesn’t quite know how to tell them that the excruciating physical pain is nothing compared to the emotional agony he feels. It’s a paralyzing sense of regret, stronger than anything he’d ever felt before; it constricts his chest and, if it weren’t for the oxygen mask strapped over his mouth, breathing would be next to impossible._

_“Is there anyone we should call Mr. Tozier? Perhaps your parents?” The nurse is just doing her job by asking, Richie knows this. But regardless, the seemingly harmless question feels like a stab directly to his heart._

_He swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head, “Ummm, no. There’s no one.”_

_“Well you have a waiting room full of people who want to see you,” she informs him, with a clueless smile. “Do you want me to send them in?”_

_Richie considers it for a moment; it would be easy enough to completely shut them out during his hospital stay. Surely the staff wouldn't allow them into his room if he told them he didn't want that. But somehow, he feels like that would only make matters worse, drive even more tension into an already unbearably tense situation._

_“Maybe in the morning,” he answers quietly, not quite ready to face everyone's judgement or the consequences of his actions. Not that he would be getting much sleep regardless._

 

Richie wakes up with a jolt, a dull ache residing in his chest which feels vaguely reminiscent of the pain he felt in the all too vivid memory. Most of his dreams these days consist of just that.

He scoots to sit on the edge of the couch and plants his elbows just above his knees; his head dips down to rest in his hands, his thumbs rubbing circles against his temples. He tries to shake the feeling settling in his gut, but, as always, he finds it difficult. Especially considering what had happened earlier with Eddie. Did he already ruin things between them? Could whatever spark they’d rekindled be fizzling out already?

All day long, Eddie had been avoiding him. At first, Richie thought, perhaps he was just imagining things. But after multiple attempts to talk things over with Eddie, he realized that wasn’t the case. Maybe he did already destroy what small chance he had left.

Sighing softly, he’s about to stand up to retrieve a glass of water when he hears the sound of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of footsteps down the hallway and into the living room. He looks up from his spot as the source moves to stand in front of him.

“Eds?”

 

_Considering the fact that he left the hospital mere hours ago, Eddie feels absolutely exhausted when he returns first thing in the morning. After being told Richie didn’t feel up for visitors, everyone went home to catch up on some much needed rest; Eddie couldn’t speak for the rest of them but he didn’t get a single wink of sleep when he briefly returned home. Paired with the absolute devastation he felt towards the current situation, he’s never felt as horrible as he did walking back into the waiting room. Though he’s sure it’s nothing compared to the way Richie must be feeling. He just hopes, desperately, to be able to see him._

_“Hey guys,” he greets everyone meekly. Everyone is there already, even Stan and Patty who should be on a plane to their honeymoon by now. “How’s he doing? Is he up for visitors?” He doesn’t even bother to try and hide the painfully hopeful tone in his voice._

_Mike nods in response, “Yeah, Bev’s in there right now.”_

_“It’s not...it’s not an easy sight, Eddie,” Stan speaks up, his fingers laced tightly with Patty’s. “He’s in pretty rough shape.”_

_Eddie sniffles softly, biting back the tears tickling the corner of his eyes. He looks up just in time to see Bev closing the door to Richie’s room behind her. The second her eyes land on him, an expression of resentment passes over her face. Regardless, he walks over, intent on seeing Richie. But when he gets close enough, Bev holds her hand up to block his path._

_“I need to see him Bev,” he whispers desperately, conveying the deep-seated need to see Richie, to talk to him even. He understood it wouldn’t be easy; he didn’t even know what he would say, but he_ **_needed_ ** _to say it and see Richie, despite the debilitated state he was in._

_“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” she asks, her voice quiet and thick with disdain._

_Eddie lets out a shaky breath and purses his lips together as a few tears trickle down his cheeks. He knows how Bev feels; she’s made that perfectly clear to him already. “This wasn’t my fault,” he whimpers. “Now please, can you just move?”_

_Bev refuses to move, sighing heavily, “He doesn’t want to see you, Eddie.”_

_“What?” Eddie questions, devastation wrecking any volume he intended to put behind his words. “What do you mean?”_

_“Isn’t it obvious?” she demands, her other hand moving to rest on her hip, “You destroyed him. And you should really go before you cause anymore damage.”_

_From across the waiting room, Stan detangles himself from his wife and marches over to where the two stand. “Bev, c'mon,” he says firmly, standing by Eddie's side, both literally and figuratively. “You've got no say in the matter.”_

_“You're really gonna side with him?” Bev snarls, an intense glare focused on Stan. “After what he did to our friend?”_

_“_ **_Our friend_ ** _did that to himself,” Stan snaps right back, “Richie made the choice to get in that car. Not Eddie.”_

_By now, tears are pouring down Eddie's cheeks; he's beyond grateful for Stan standing up for him. But it's all too much to handle and he can already feel the sobs bubbling up in his throat. Stan's arm slides around his shoulders and begins to guide him away from Bev, clearly understanding he needs a moment to compose himself._

_But not before he hears Bev whisper the words, “I wish it'd been you instead.”_

 

Those last words ring repeatedly through Eddie’s mind as he lays in bed, completely unable to find slumber. Guilt and anguish rack his subconscious; he hates how he handled it, or rather the fact that he didn’t. He just froze. And now he keeps kicking himself, for not saying more, for not kissing back, for not doing something, _anything_ really. But just like he had done years prior in the hospital that morning, he ran away.

A flash of Richie sparks in his mind; the first of many kisses shared, out on his front porch of all places. He'd been so terrified of his mom seeing that he had just froze when he felt Richie's lips on his own, despite the red hot fire they ignited over every inch of his skin.

It's a fitting image considering how he left Richie earlier. He didn't see the similarities until now and it's sort of poetic the way it mirrors their first kiss. It's not as though they shared their first kiss there in the woods today, not by far. But in a way, it feels like a first. After all they suffered through, it feels like a new beginning.

And he knows, deep in his heart, Richie would wait for him. _A lifetime,_ he's sure Richie would say. When they were young and naive, they had always promised each other forever. But maybe forever isn't a length of time; it's a destination and all that matters is that they end up together when they reach their forever.

Eddie's never been one to declare it was fate or destiny, but maybe, just maybe, everything lined up for them to be here, exactly where they are, on the cusp of everything they ever were and everything they wish to be. It's taken them a while to arrive and the universe must understand the amount of work they both put in to be exactly where they are. Surely, Eddie can't waste such an opportunity.

Suddenly all the fear which had frozen him before has melted away into a deep, burning ache to be with Richie. It's all consuming and even if he wanted to, Eddie's sure he couldn't think any thought not pertaining to Richie. For the first time, the wild rush of memories floating through his mind don't end at the hospital; they don't end with the heavy weight on his chest. No, this time it ends with the smiles he once caused coming back to life, with the kisses they once shared and the love they once made, no longer a far echo in his mind.

A soft flush rises to his cheeks as he slides off of the bed and grabs his bag; he hoists it onto the bed and digs around inside the outer pocket. Sure enough, his fingers brush over the small bottle of lube he must have left in there from his and Nathan’s last trip together. Given the situation, he hadn’t planned anything special for the two of them, considering the proximity of all his friends.

Eddie chuckles at the irony and shrugs off the feeling of apprehension tickling his fingertips as he strips himself of his clothes and pops the cap open. Even his screaming nerves can't stop him now; he knows what he wants, what he needs and every possible answer is Richie. Nothing else would ever be enough. Eddie can't believe he was ever foolish enough to believe otherwise.

Eddie can practically hear the thump of his heart as it pounds in his chest. He stands right before Richie, who’s looking up at him from the couch in a mix of confusion and curiosity. The sheet is still tightly wrapped around his body, held in place by his arms crossed over his chest. Inhaling a deep breath, he uncrosses them and pushes the sheet from his shoulders, letting it dramatically cascade to the floor. It leaves him completely naked and vulnerable in front of Richie, and yet somehow, he’s never felt safer.

Richie seems to be speechless as his jaw drops open, eyes dragging slowly up and down the naked body in front of him. They end to meet Eddie’s gaze, holding a certain amount of disbelief as he continues to stare up at him. Eddie tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and wordlessly moves to straddle Richie’s lap; he steals a quick glance down to see a gentle shake in Richie’s hands as they hover over his hips. He places his hands over Richie’s and guides them down to finally rest on his hips.

The simple touch threatens to steal his breath as Richie’s fingertips press into his soft skin. He brings both of his hands up to cup Richie’s cheeks; it almost feels silly, but he has to summon all the courage he can muster to finally press their lips together. Sure, he's literally naked and on top of Richie but somehow a kiss still seems wildly more intimate.

It starts slow as they ease into it, a quick succession of chaste kisses at first, but soon after, they’re deepened into a slow, passionate slide of their tongues against one another.

Richie’s hands move to rub over the entire expanse of his bare back, briefly tangling his fingers into Eddie’s soft blonde locks. The sound of a gentle moan fills the air and it’s hard to say who it came from as they both grow more and more desperate for the other’s touch. Eddie’s the first to break the kiss, only to reattach his lips to Richie’s neck as he peppers hot, open mouth kisses against the warm skin there.

Richie tilts his head to rest in the back of the couch, his lips parted as he pants out breath after breath, “Eds,” he whispers in disbelief, hands running up his sides, chest and then neck until they’re cupping his cheeks. He uses the grip to guide Eddie’s lips back to his, for another sensual kiss.

Eddie whimpers into the kiss, his hands flying up to grab onto RIchie’s arms to brace himself. He slowly and experimentally drags his hips forward, grinning against Richie’s lips at the groan he elicits from them. Richie scraps his nails lightly down Eddie’s back, causing him to break the kiss with a needy whimper. “ _Richie.”_

Richie's hands make the journey back up to his cheeks, taking detours along the way; they brush over Eddie's hips and down his thighs, thumbs brushing across his hip bones on the way up as they trail up his stomach and chest to finally grab onto both of his cheeks. The eye contact they hold is intense, unwavering with a million unspoken emotions sparking between them. If they started talking now, they would never stop.

“Whatever you need, Eds,” Richie declares, his voice firm and commanding, the kind of tone which renders absolute trust. Not that Eddie felt anything less for/towards him. “I’m here for you.”

Eddie nods, both of his hands coming up to rest on Richie's forearms, thumbs stroking over the soft skin of his wrists. Even a touch as simple as that electrifies both of them, reigniting an urge from years ago that never truly went away.

A completely free moan tears itself from Eddie's throat as he shifts on Richie's lap, creating an intoxicating friction between them. Richie must approve, seeing how quickly his hands fall back to grip Eddie's hips, tighter with each drag of them. Eddie's hands rest on either side of his neck, not only for balance but also for the indulgently intimate touch.

At this point, he holds no concern for their volume. It's taken them so long to get to where they are, the last thing Eddie wants is to have to stifle it in any way. Let everyone hear. Perhaps he's still bitter, because of those who stood in the way before and those who didn't take a stand at all.

Eddie mewls in unashamed pleasure, purposefully grinding his hips down against Richie’s. Keeping his hands planted on Richie’s neck, he strokes his thumb over the sharp line of his jaw; a smirk adorns his lips at the gentle, yet obvious shudder Richie lets out. “Still sensitive, huh?” Eddie asks, recalling how even the slightest touch along his jaw drove Richie crazy.

“Little bit,” Richie chuckles and nods, biting back a groan as Eddie leans down to press a series of kisses along his jawline.

“I need you,” Eddie murmurs against his skin, his touches and kisses becoming almost frantic. “I need you so bad, Richie.”

Richie looks up at him, adoration shining in his eyes as he brushes back a stray piece of Eddie’s hair from his forehead. “Are you sure?” he asks gently. The last thing he wants to do is stop, but he would, for Eddie. Truth be told, he would do anything for Eddie.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything,” he says with an eager nod, snaking his hand between their bodies to slip his fingers below the elastic of Richie’s sweats. Their eyes meet again and maintain contact as his fingers trace over Richie’s hardening length. Gradually, they curl around it and tug it free; he spits into his hand and gives it a few solid strokes. He shifts his hips forward and reaches behind himself to wrap his fingers around the base, holding it still so he can sink down onto it. Before he can though, Richie stops him, with a hand gripping his cheek.

 “No, no, no,” Richie chants breathlessly, shaking his head. “We can’t do it like this, Eddie.”

“What?” Eddie whispers, sounding painfully devastated for a moment. His hands fall away from Richie and he makes a move to slide off of Richie’s lap, before his arm wraps around his back to hold him in place.

“You’re not _ready_ ,” Richie insists firmly, moving a finger down to brush over Eddie’s entrance.

Eddie eagerly smashes his lips back to Richie’s, sliding his tongue into his mouth as he combs his fingers through Richie’s hair. His body goes pliant with relief, letting the hold Richie has on him keep him in place. “I already took care of that,” he murmurs against his lips, in between fervent kisses. With the amount of passion between them, he couldn't imagine having to take the time to prep and he's so thankful he did so before. Every bone in his body aches for Richie, to kiss him, to hold him, to have him inside him.

Richie lets out a soft groan as he grips both of his cheeks to spread them apart. Without breaking the kiss, Eddie reaches back once again to guide the head of Richie’s length to his hole. His eyes slip shut, jaw drops open as he slowly eases his hips all the way down until he’s seated against Richie’s thighs. A whimper escapes his lips at the sensation of Richie completely filling him, for the first time in years. It came with an entire, overwhelming wave of feelings crashing over him and he knew that Richie felt the exact same.

His head drops so that his forehead is pressed against Richie's shoulder, a mess of soft pleasured sounds escaping his lips as he adjusts to the feelings, both of Richie throbbing inside him and the myriad of emotions rolling over him, the overwhelming affection he feels for Richie and the disappoint he feels for all their lost time.

Richie turns his head to press a kiss to his temple, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as he whispers, “Take all the time you need. I got you.”  

A shiver shoots down Eddie's spine, due to the warm breath against his neck and the sincerity of Richie's words as his hands run soothingly over any patch of skin they can reach. He smiles fondly; it reminds him of the beginning of their relationship, where the passion was fresh and the desire to completely know each other's body outweighed _everything_.

After a couple moments of stillness, filled only with slow, lazy kisses, Eddie shifts his hips forward and moans as he drives them back again. His hands rest on Richie’s shoulders, building up a steady rhythm of grinding his hips against Richie’s lap. They fall down to rest on his biceps as Richie’s hands grip his hips, encouraging their deliberate movement.

“ _Rich_ ,” he gasps, nails digging into the fabric of Richie’s sweatshirt. He desperately presses his lips to Richie’s, where he’s met with just as much desperation and passion. It’s messy and they can barely focus on the movement of their lips and tongues with the increasing pleasure between them, but they both need it regardless. Eddie tosses his head back and moans, beginning to bounce in Richie’s lap.

Richie’s hand travels up Eddie’s chest, his fingers brush across his throat and his thumb caresses over his bottom lip. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he says quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. Eddie purses his lips and presses a kiss to Richie’s thumb. His crystal blue eyes are brimming with thick tears as he continues to look up at Eddie.

“Me too,” he whimpers, reaching up to wipe the tears from Richie’s cheeks. The heat intensifies in his gut as he begins to frantically work his hips down against Richie’s. “ _Please Richie.”_

“I’m here,” Richie assures him, his other hand moving to wrap around Eddie’s length to stroke him in time with the movement of his hips. “Always here for you.”

“I know,” Eddie nods frantically, crying out in pleasure as a slight shift of his hips causes Richie to slam against his prostate. “Please, please, please,” he begs and he can feel tears of his own welling up in his eyes and squeezes them shut as he comes, spilling over Richie’s fist.

With the blissful haze of his release beginning to take over his mind, he can vaguely register the sound of his name being called out. But he must be too far gone because it seems like it’s coming from far away, versus right in front of him. As he comes down, his eyes flutter open and suddenly he can hear a string of soft, breathy curses coming from Richie.

“Eds,” he groans softly, his fingers tightening their grip on his thigh as his release hits. He pulls Eddie’s face down to meet his for a gentle, slow kiss. Stroking his thumb across Eddie’s cheek, Richie smiles at him, resembling the very look he would give Eddie all those years ago, when they first fell in love. Only this time, there’s no falling to do; whether they can admit it or not, they’re already there.

“Here,” Richie says tenderly, unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders.

Eddie smiles fondly, dozens of memories filling his mind of similar situations as he pulls the sweatshirt on with Richie’s help. His head dips down to watch Richie’s fingers tug the zipper all the way up; he grabs his hand in his own as it reaches the top, bringing the palm to his lips. He presses a kiss there and then to each of the fingers.

Between the two of them, there must be hundreds of thoughts racing through their minds, and at least twice as many words on the tips of their tongues, most likely consisting of apologies and confessions of love. None of those come out though; where would they even start? Instead, Eddie leans down to kiss Richie again, feeling like they’ve both waited long enough to be back here again.

But the second their lips touch, Eddie jerks back at the distant call of his name. He frowns as he whips his head around to scan the empty living room, “Did you hear that?” he asks in a whisper, his eyes fixed on the window and where the room is illuminated by the full moon.

Richie’s brow furrows in confusion as he listens intently, “Hear what, Eds?”

“ _Listen_ ,” Eddie demands, his voice eerily quiet and on edge. Slowly, he slides off of Richie's lap, attention still focused on the window while he creeps towards it. The closer he gets, the louder the call becomes as it periodically rings through the air. The tone sounds distraught, but it isn't until he reaches the window and creeks it open that he hears the pained scream of his name. Immediately, his heart begins to race and his hands tremble, for an entirely different reason than what the two of them just partook in.

In the distance, he can see something; at first, he’s not even sure what it is. Perhaps it’s a deer, bloodied and broken crawling out of the treeline after suffering the wrath of a mountain lion. He squints as he struggles to identify the sight through the darkness of the night. But he heard his name being called before and he hears it when it sounds off again, this one louder and clearer than the rest and almost simultaneously, he recognizes the person, seemingly fighting for his life.

“Nathan,” he whispers, stumbling back a few steps, into Richie, who catches him in open arms. But not for long, because soon enough, Eddie's flying towards the door and ripping it open. He's out on the porch before Richie can join him, calling out Nathan's name, louder and more desperately this time.

The view is clearer from outside and, even from across the way, they can both see the amount of blood trailing behind Nathan as he digs his fingers into the soil, still attempting to pull himself along.

Eddie feels a deep need to run over and help him; maybe part of it lies in guilt, or just the love he still has for Nathan. And he's already running down the steps, without thinking through the implications or ramifications. He just knows he has to get there and help him, especially after everything Nathan's done for him.

He’s already down the steps and across the driveway, rushing over to what’s left of Nathan. But Richie's arm wrapping around his middle stops him from going any further, despite the way he struggles against the hold in protest. Barely a second later, as their attention is drawn back to Nathan due to a fearful cry for help, they watch as he's suddenly yanked back, disappearing into the woods in a matter of seconds.

Richie and Eddie watch in stunned silence, both wearing expressions of horror as a blood curdling scream sounds from the distance, much further away than humanly possible in that short amount of time.

Directly after, a frighteningly still silence falls over the woods, for one passing moment. In that time, the two share horrified, confused glances before their eyes move back towards the woods as a rustling moves through the trees. But the pattern is too distinct to be just the wind.

Richie’s large hand flies up to cover Eddie’s mouth, gently shushing his distressed cries. His eyes are glued to the dense treeline as he listens intently to the direction of the violent rustling. No longer is it retreating; in fact, it seems to be headed in the opposite direction.

“Eds, we gotta go,” he whispers gravely, using the hold around his waist to spin him away from the view of the woods and shoving him towards the cabin. The rustling grows louder and the trees shake violently under the movement of _something_. Richie can’t quite see the cause, but he’s sure he doesn’t want to at this point.

“Go, go, go,” he urges Eddie, almost frantically as he follows him up the steps, as quickly as his bad leg will allow him. He gets close enough to plant his hand on Eddie’s back, shoving him into the cabin right as he can feel the presence quickly gaining on them. He can feel a warm, thick breath on the back of his neck and the sensation covers his body in goosebumps. The second he flies through the door, he spins around to slam it shut, locking it and sliding the dead bolt into place with trembling fingers.

Richie falls back against the door, his chest heaving from the exertion and from the terror of whatever they had just narrowly escaped. Part of him, a very small part, contemplates walking over to the window and peering outside to catch a glimpse of whatever it could be. They were inside now; they were safe. It had to be an animal of some kind, _right?_ Not once had Richie ever seen or heard of an animal moving in such a way. But what else could it possibly be? _It had to be._

The other part of him wants to take the handful of steps over to where Eddie has collapsed onto the floor, face buried in his hands as he sobs. But he’s still paralyzed in fear, unable to make a single movement.

It doesn't take long for their previous commotion to wake up the other occupants of the cabin, the first being Mike who comes running into the living room. Bev and Ben are mere seconds behind him, flying out of their room right behind him.

They take in the sight before them, Eddie almost hyperventilating on the floor while Richie stands, clearly only held up by the door behind him. He winces in pain as he tries to even out his breathing.

“What happened?” Mike asks, his voice dripping with only concern, despite the terrified atmosphere of the room and the possibility of whatever Eddie's answer would be.

Only Eddie's completely unable to vocalize any words, only omitting short, quickened huffs of breath. Mike rushes over and falls to his knees in front of him, gripping both of his cheeks and forcing their eyes to meet. “Eddie, _breathe.”_

“What's going on guys?” Bev presses as she crosses the living room over to where Richie stands, silently shaking his head. She puts his arm over her shoulders and helps him over to the couch. Sitting beside him, she rubs a hand over his back, looking up with a small smile as Ben holds out the glass of water he'd retrieved.

Stan comes padding out into the living, rubbing a hand over his sleep ridden face. It falls when he comes upon the scene and all the color drains from him, “Was it that guy again?”

Richie lowers the water glass from his quivering lips and shakes his head. “I...I don't know what it was.”

Bev inhales a sharp breath as Ben frowns, “What do you mean Richie?”

“I mean I don't know what it was!” He repeats, his voice much louder in volume, though it's obvious to the group the anger isn't directed at them. Richie lowers his voice to a solemn tone, barely above a whisper. “Some _thing_ dragged Nathan into the woods. There was so much blood and then he was just... _gone_.” Eddie lets out a particularly violent sob at those words, though thankfully with Mike's help, his breathing has evened out significantly. “And then he screamed and then everything just went silent.”

Bev’s jaw drops in shock, mirroring the rest of the room’s reaction to the implication hanging in the air. “Nathan’s…”

“Dead?” Patty finishes, the word coming out in a frightened whimper as she moves to stand next to her husband. Wordlessly, without looking down, Stan moves his hand down next to hers and laces their fingers together, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Richie’s nodding silently while Eddie shakes his head vehemently, attempting to pull himself up onto his shaky legs. “We have to help him,” he cries out, stumbling a few steps towards the door.

“Eddie, he’s _dead,”_ Richie insists firmly. His heart aches for his friend, that much is evident in his voice. He loves Eddie, more than he’s ever loved anyone in his lifetime and to see him in such horrendous pain hurts more than anything he’s ever felt before. More than the moment the car collided with the tree, or the moment he laid in that hospital bed, thinking Eddie wanted nothing to do with him, ever again. Even the lowest moments in his life can’t compare to the heartbreak he feels watching Eddie fall apart.

Despite his unsteady legs, Richie pushes himself off the couch and goes over to where Eddie’s struggling to undo the deadbolt, Mike behind him trying to pull him away. Silently, he wraps his arms around Eddie, one around his waist and the other around his shoulders. Still sobbing, Eddie plants both hands on Richie’s chest and pushes himself away.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he cries, bringing his hands up to cover his face. The number of implications behind his words hit Richie hard, but seems to miss everyone else in the room. Luckily so as a loud scream sounds from the room Bill and Audra currently occupy. The rest of the group rushes to investigate, leaving Richie and Eddie alone in the living room for a moment.

“Eds,” Richie whispers, tentatively reaching his hand out to touch Eddie’s arm.

He flinches away from the touch, an immense amount of guilt settling in his gut. “I should’ve gone after him,” Eddie chokes out, barely audible. “I shouldn’t have let him leave.”

Richie clenches his jaw, swallowing the sting of Eddie’s words, or rather the consequences they suggest. Nathan leaving had allowed the two of them to reignite what they had lost years ago, but Richie would undo that in a heartbeat to save Eddie from any kind of guilt or regret. Eddie didn’t deserve to feel that way, no even for a second.

“This isn’t your fault Eddie,” Richie says quietly before moving through the living room and down the hallway to join the others, attempting to give Eddie the space he deserves. He peeks through the door to witness everyone crowding around the bed; Bill sits on the edge of it, cradling a hysterical Audra against his side.

“Something weird is going on,” Stan declares firmly, arm tightening around where it’s draped over Patty’s shoulders.

“What happened?” Richie asks shakily, fearing the answer he would receive. He has a creeping suspicion though, he already knows.

Mike slowly shakes his head, “Audra saw something run past her window outside.”

All the color drains from Richie’s face, “What was it?”

“I don’t know!” She exclaims, tears pouring down her cheeks as she reaches up with trembling hands to wipe them away. “It was too fast, but it looked almost human.”

The phrase sends a collective chill down the spines of everyone in the room, including Eddie who had joined them just a moment prior. The two of them share a knowing look; whatever Audra saw was likely the same thing that took Nathan.

“What are we gonna do?”

 

**Here is your next decision. From here on out, you will find they become more difficult. Are you ready to suffer the consequences of your choice? We shall find out soon enough.**

_**What course of action do our Losers take?** _

**Option 1:**

**“We need to get out of here,” Patty volunteers quickly, looking up at Stan with pleading eyes.**

**Stan nods in agreement, “Yeah, let’s just get in our cars and leave. Weird shit’s been happening ever since we got here.”**

**Option 2:**

**“We should go investigate,” Bill says suddenly, looking up at the group. He’s still got his arm wrapped tightly around Audra’s shoulders as she continues to cry. “Whatever’s out there isn’t going away. I say we take the shotgun out back and just deal with it right now.”**

**Option 3:**

**“We should call the cops,” Ben suggests softly from where he stood beside Bev. He tightly laces his fingers together with Bev’s as she nods in agreement with him.**

**“We wait until they show up and they’ll be able to help.”**

**Option 4:**

**“We’re not going anywhere,” Mike declares, his voice firm and steady as he commands the room’s attention. “We’re going to stay in here and wait out the night. Then in the morning we can make a decision.”**


	4. The Wolves

_“SOMEBODY CALL 911!!”_

_The scream rings out through the crisp air as dusk settles around the scene. There’s a throbbing in his head so intense he can hear it echo in his ears; past that, he registers the scream, belted at the top of whoever’s lungs. He can’t quite tell. It sounds far away, distant despite the obvious volume. The only other sound he can hear is the gentle thrum of music coming from the venue._

_His vision fades in and out, much like his consciousness he suspects. Though it’s blurred, he can vaguely see the busted windshield in front of him, the cracks filled red. The hood appears to be crumpled up towards the windshield and at the front of the car stands a thick tree._

_Every bone in his body aches and if he felt he could move at all, he’s sure his body would ignite with pain, every last inch of it. His entire body feels weak, like it would take a world of effort to move even one muscle. He tries, with all his might and cries out in agony as his leg remains pinned in place._

_A coppery scent fills his nose and threatens to rise the bile beginning to settle in his throat. He knows, on some level in his mind, that the impact occurred no more than a minute ago and yet, with all the pain circling through his body, it feels like it’s been an eternity since the collision._

_And they say, your life flashes before your eyes, when you're about to die. In that moment, Richie expects a montage of his greatest hits; definitely the time he and Bev snuck into the R rated movie (and got caught barely five minutes in) or maybe the time he and Stan went on the hike through the barrens and found the rarest bird in all of Derry (so says Stan anyways, Richie just enjoyed seeing how his face lit up). He thinks he'll see the time spent on Mike's farm, or studying with Ben or riding his bike with Bill. But only one thing pops into his mind, one single memory,_

_Another single moment, where his entire world seemed to stop for mere seconds. The memory serves as a stark contrast to his current reality, but he welcomes it nonetheless._   
  
_A pair of gray eyes staring up at him, with all the hope in the world. Hope for what is, hope for what could be. Hope for a future, together. That's what he sees when he looks into Eddie's eyes, and for the first time, utters the words, 'I love you.'_   
  
_He remembers how he felt, hearing the love of his life eagerly express the same sentiment right back to him. He felt on top of the world._   
  
_And now, as his vision blurs and consciousness slips away from him, he feels like he's finally hit the bottom._   
  
  
The room is still filled with the fearful, uncontrollable sobs coming from Audra. Bill moves from his spot beside her to stand as he exclaims, "So best case scenario, they actually show up...then what?"   
  
"I don't know," Ben sighs softly, rubbing a hand over his face. "They'll help okay?"   
  
"Oh yeah okay, like they helped us with that 'dead body'?" Bill demands, his hands flying up to emphasis his point with aggressively sarcastic air quotes.   
  
For a quick moment, Eddie's face drops all traces of fear and is replaced with anger as he lunges over in Bill's direction. His hands connect to his chest, using the force to shove him backwards. "Fuck you!" He yells, tears welling up in his eyes. "Nathan's gone! Whatever took him probably took the body too!"   
  
"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Bill questions harshly, fingertips brushing against his temple before thrusting his hand in Eddie's direction. His skepticism is more than evident, both on his face and in his voice. "It's probably just that psycho from yesterday.”   
  
Richie shakes his head, his face void of any and all color. He speaks in a soft tone, one of intense disbelief, "No, Bill, look. It wasn't that guy, okay? It was...I don't know, it was something."   
  
"Could it have been a bear or something?" Stan chimes in, his fingers brushing up and down Patty's arm. Her eyes are shut, head resting on Stan's shoulder.   
  
Mike shakes his head, shotgun still gripped in his hand, but hanging loose by his side. "I doubt it. Haven't seen a bear out here in years."   
  
"Well I'm not gonna just sit here like easy prey," Bill says firmly, striding over to Mike and attempting to snatch the shotgun away from his grip.   
  
Mike is quick to react, however. Once Bill's fingers skim the stock, Mike is shoving him over to the nearby wall, his forearm shoved firmly to his collarbones to keep his shoulders pressed down. "Over my dead body am I letting you go out there," Mike snarls, "This is my property, and you are my friend. We are going to call the cops and everyone will wait in here until they arrive."   
  
The room falls silent as everyone takes in the scene, an uncharacteristic show of force from their friend, but a sentiment of loyalty perfectly in character for him. Back in the years where they almost ran together like a pack, Bill had always been their leader. But oh, how the times have changed; their dynamics have shifted beyond recognition. After their time apart, do they even have any at all? To them, Bill no longer feels like the leader. Bev and Eddie can barely stand to be in the same room. And while he is world's better than the last time they saw him, Richie’s lost the spark of joy that was always shining in his eyes.

The first to move is Ben, who flees from the room and returns moments later with the landline pressed firmly to his ear. Only then does Mike lower his arm from Bill's chest,  releasing him from his hold. Audra races over to him where he's coughing and sputtering.

“Bill,” she whimpers, latching onto his arm with her trembling hands.

“Let's go,” Bill says coldly, his voice lacking any discernible emotion as he takes Audra's hand in his own.

“Bill…”

“No!” He shouts quickly, effectively cutting them off. He holds his other hand up to stop the approach of Mike towards him once again. “I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers, pausing for a long moment before continuing, his voice growing in volume. “You don't get to pull the friend card! Friends don't get to disappear without a trace for five years and then come back and act like everything is fine!”

Save for Ben speaking to the 911 operator, no one says a word. What could even be said? It's not like Bill's outburst isn't the truth. Apparently, their promises to stay in contact were empty all along.

He moves over to the door, bringing Audra along with him. But he stops as he reaches the doorway and turns to face the room once again. His voice is quiet, controlled but obviously filled with contempt.

“Georgie almost died,” he informs them somberly, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose as he sniffles. “Yeah, the same year as Richie's accident. A robbery gone wrong,” he continues, clenching his jaw in an attempt to hold back the tears he can feel forming in his eyes, “You know who came to visit him? Richie. And his sponsor because he was still in rehab at the time. But the rest of you? Were too damn busy with your own lives to even bother calling. So you'll have to excuse me if I don't want to sit around with people who claim to be my friend.”

With that, Bill pulls Audra out of the room, leaving half a dozen shocked faces behind. They are all mixed with immense guilt and the knowledge that they deserve it.

“Cops will be here in about half an hour,” Ben breaks the silence, words spoken solemnly.

No one replies, sending the room into another tense silence. What can even be said in their current situation? None of them want to deny any of it or invalidate anything Bill said, because in all honesty, it’s true. After Richie’s accident, they all promised to stay in contact, stay together despite all the different directions they were about to go in their lives.

Stan and Patty were newlyweds and already entertaining the idea of kids, both of them wanting a large family someday. Richie had a long journey of recovery ahead of him. Eddie and Nathan were in the beginning of their relationship and this was a major test of its fragility. Bev and Ben were both buried in their careers. Bill talked about traveling to find inspiration for his next piece and Mike just bought a cabin practically out in the mountains.

Things were going to be different. There wasn’t any doubt about that; none of them assumed that would ever force them all apart the way it did. However, like with most, along with youth came naivety. It didn’t necessarily serve as a fault, but it helped shape the decisions they made and consequently affected the outcomes.

None of them ever considered the possibility of their group splitting; they were and had always been _one_ , completely unbreakable. It was even more shocking that the cracks came from within. Whether or not he intended to, the first to break away was Eddie, understandably so after everything that went down. Slowly, they broke off into smaller groups until even those groups drifted apart. Bill was the last to accept their new reality; he didn’t want to admit it was over and, for the longest time, refused to give up. He tried to stay in contact with everyone, tried to force them all into reconciliation. But eventually, even he got tired of trying, when each attempt was met with a “wish we could!” or a “maybe next time!”.

And now, here they are; all silently contemplating the steps they took to get here. One day they promised not to lose touch and after some time, they did exactly that. So in reality, none of them can blame Bill, even in the slightest, for telling them off and storming out; they probably deserved far worse.

The sound of the front door slamming shut startles the group of them, resulting in scattered gasps and rushed glances. First to move from their spot is Bev, sharing a long look with Ben before rushing out of the room; everyone else is quick to follow after her.

By the time they make it to the living room, a loud, shrill scream fills the air around them, sounding right outside the cabin. There’s a brief moment where they pause, seized by terror and uncertainty. There isn’t much doubt as to who the scream came from, but what caused it? And what’s even worse is the briefest moment of silence that follows. But it’s not quite enough time to react before another frightened shout permeates through the cabin walls.

_Bill._

Richie pushes past the rest of the group and throws the front door open with zero hesitation. The sight he’s met with is horrifying and the stench that comes along with it is nauseating. Lying motionless on the loose gravel of the driveway is Audra, head turned to the side, her eyes wide and jaw dropped open. Something in her unblinking expression conveys her lifelessness, but there’s a certain disbelief that washes over him.

At least until his gaze drifts further down and the scene he finds causes him to stumble back in shock. Suddenly, the coppery scent hanging in the air registers; accompanied with it is the sickening wet sound of ripping flesh.

Scattered around Audra's body is what looks to be a mix of blood and intestines. The amount of blood is horrifying as it continues to seep from the open hole that once was her stomach, but now is a mangled mess of flesh and organs.

It's just dark enough that Richie's brain can tell him his eyes are playing tricks on him, that he's not seeing what he knows he is. Sunken into what's left of her stomach is a row of grotesque fangs, which yank back and tear apart her skin with twisted ease.

Bill's on the ground, a few feet away, watching the scene through horrified, wide eyes. He's sitting down with his legs outstretched in front of him, heels dug into the gravel. His arms rest behind him, fingers digging into the loose pebbles in a desperate attempt to pull himself away from the scene. It's slow, but deliberate, creeping away as quickly and quietly as he can manage. Whatever it is feasting on Audra's flesh continues to do so, Bill now situated directly between them. He's mere inches from the steps and retreat seems entirely possible until from inside the cabin, right behind Richie, sounds a blood curdling scream.

It's attention snaps up and a sick crack follows. It's gaze is now fixed on Bill. He quickly flips around so he can stand. The creature climbs over Audra's body on all fours. It’s pace is quick as it crawls closer to them.

Right as Bill gets his footing on the top step, it reaches out, a handful of sharp claws wrapping around Bill's legs and digging into his flesh. He cries out in agony. He falls once again, sprawled out on the steps. Without thinking, Richie lunges forward. His hand grabs onto Bill’s. He braces his legs as firmly as he can and pulls back against the strong force trying to take him away.

“Don't let go! I got you!” Richie shouts firmly, gripping beneath Bill's bicep to establish a two point grip.

“Fuck! Richie, help me please!” Bill screams in response.

Bill continues to cry out in pain as his pant leg is shredded. Blood begins to pool around the claws still dug into him. There's pure fear in his eyes as he stares up at Richie, something he’d never truly seen before.

“Don’t let it take me,” Bill whimpers, tears in his eyes. He continues to beg desperately for his life, “Please, Rich! Don’t let it take me!”

Right as Richie can feel his leg giving out beneath him, he feels a presence brush past him and grab onto Bill's arm alongside him. Mike also grabs the back of Bill’s shirt and together, they rip him away from the creatures vice like grip, claws still dug into his leg the entire time. Bill screams in agony as they tear through skin and muscle, until eventually it runs too thin and the creature has no hold on him. Richie and Mike both stumble back, all while still holding onto Bill.

Stan and Ben lunge forward to grab onto each of them, helping them pull Bill inside as the creature scurries towards them. Right as it gets to the door and takes one final swipe at them, Bev throws her entire weight at the door, effectively slamming it shut.

There’s a mix of heaved breaths in the air, along with the continued, pained cries of Bill as they help him over to the couch. Almost immediately, the cushions are stained red as blood continues to pour from his wounds.

“Puh-please,” Bill croaks out, his head thrown back against the cushion as he writhes in agony, “H-help me.”  


_The air in the room is tense, just as it’s been the entire time he’s occupied it. With each new visitor, it becomes harder and harder for him to breathe, struggling under the weight of their judgement and expectations. There’s nothing more he wants than to sink back into the stiff hospital bed and disappear forever. He knows he doesn’t deserve that though; there are a plenty of things he deserves, but a painless escape isn’t one of them._

_“Please Bill,” he whispers, tears already accumulating behind his lashes. As he turns his head to the side to meet Bill’s gaze, they begin to trickle down his bruised cheeks, over the handful of stitched lacerations. “I need help.”_

_Bill nods silently and for a moment, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him. He rests his head back against the pillow and lets the tears fall freely. The first step, he thinks to himself, is to admit there’s a problem. All he can hope is the rest comes easy. It seems foolish to think in such a naive way, but part of him, right now, needs the naivety to pull through. Because if he tells himself, for even a second longer, how hard it’ll be, going through with it wouldn’t seem possible at all._

_“Promise you won’t tell anyone.” The request comes out shaky, but the intent is firm._

_Bill frowns, presumably in confusion at the request, “Richie, no one's guh-gonna judge you. They'll all b-be proud.”_

_Richie lets out a heavy sigh, momentarily considering his words before responding. “If no one knows, that'll less people disappointed if I fail.”_

The memory plays like a brief flash in his mind and he can feel the way it tugs at his heart when he comes back to the sound of Bill's pained screaming. That alone is enough to create an unsettling atmosphere, but combined with the incessant pounding against the door it's even worse. Every body in the room is racked with the chills, or the shakes; some poor unfortunate souls are plagued with both.

“We need towels!” Richie yells, kneeling in front of the couch where they laid Bill out. His eyes go wide as he assesses the damage and soon realizes just how silly that sounds to describe what’s in front of him. Bill’s leg, what’s left of it, is in bad shape; it’s a shredded mess of blood and muscles. Inside his chest, his heart is racing and it’s causing an uncontrollable tremble in his hands. His mind cannot comprehend the situation or even what’s needed to handle it. “And, fuck...something to clean it!”

The door appears weaker and weaker come every thrust of weight thrown against the wood; it creaks horrifically as if the hinges are about to give way. Mike seems to notice and immediately lunges toward the nearby bookcase. “Help me move this!” he yells, gaining Ben’s attention with a quick waving arm. They frantically drag the bookcase until it’s pressed against the door, hopefully providing at least an ounce of extra security.

Eddie comes running back into the living room, his arms full of towels and water bottles. He falls to his knees beside Richie and dumps the supplies on the ground between them. With equally shaking hands, Eddie uncaps one of the bottles and slowly pours it over the length of Bill’s leg. His cries of pain grow louder in reaction and continue to increase in volume as Richie attempts to tightly wrap the affected area.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry,” Richie mumbles, misplaced guilt evident in his voice. He wants to help, wants to save him like Bill did for him all those years ago. But that still doesn't lessen the guilt he feels furthering Bill's agony. In the back of his mind, he can vaguely register the dialogue of Bev on the phone, presumably with 911 to request an ambulance.

The pounding on the door has ceased and Bill's cries have died down to soft groans and whimpers as his eyelids begin to grow heavy.

“Bill, c'mon stay awake,” Eddie pleads desperately, pulling back and waiting. There's not much more they can do now until help arrives. The rest of the group watches in horrified silence. His gaze on Bill unwavering, he reaches over to where Eddie's hand rests by his side and slips his beneath it, giving it a gentle squeeze. The moment feels inopportune, but he wonders if he crossed a boundary, if the horrific situation they found themselves in still is no excuse to practice such an intimate gesture. And yet, Richie finds himself, even if it's fleeting, relieved when Eddie squeezes back.

“Bev….” Richie trails off warily as Bev creeps over to the large window to the left of the entryway. She presses herself against the wall and, as slowly as she can, peeks into the darkness outside. The group collectively holds their breath, afraid of what she might see and bracing for her reaction. Shockingly, it never comes and despite that, they do not exhale, for that would signify relief and there is none.

“It's gone,” she whispers, voice low out of fear for it's immediate return at the mere sound of her speaking. Every move feels like walking on eggshells, like the smallest misstep would result in tremendous destruction and they were in no place to repair what had already been broken. But luckily, through the trees, Bev can see the flash of red and blue lights. Ben joins her at the window in response to the soft gasp she lets out and Stan and Patty follow suit after her soft declaration of her findings. Mike races over to the door and, after Stan rushes over to help, moves it away from the door.

The sound of tires on gravel fills the otherwise quiet room, Bill's noises having died down almost completely. The howl of the sirens had died the second the wheels hit the gravel and, for the briefest of moments, things are still. But it doesn’t last long as soon Mike is pulling the front door open to allow a pair of EMTs through the door.

At the sight, Richie and Eddie spring to their feet, simultaneously getting out of their way and alerting them of Bill’s whereabouts. They work in tandem, assessing the situation and attempting to get a response from Bill; the only one they receive is a low groan of pain as his eyes flutter shut. Within minutes, they’ve got him loaded onto a stretcher.

“Is anyone riding with him?”

* * *

**You’ve got a decision to make, but choose carefully as it could seal the fate of a Loser.**

**_Who rides along in the ambulance with Bill?_ **

**Option 1:** **“You should go,** **Richie** **,” Bev says, her attention turned towards him. There’s an urgency behind her words and a contradicting softness to her expression. “You’re the only one he’d want to go with him.”**

**Option 2:** **“** **Patty** **, go with him,” Stan urges her gently, slouching slightly to meet her gaze, which is cast downwards. “Baby love, listen to me. Go. Get to safety. I’ll be joining you before you know it.”**

**Option 3:** **“** **Ben** **, it should be you,” Mike says firmly, walking over to where Ben’s standing beside Bev. “You’ve got the most level headed right now.”**


End file.
